An Unconventional Fairytale
by ozzel1
Summary: A series of stories about Ron and Hermione, learning to love, cope and move on so 19 years later they can send their first born off to Hogwarts. Rated M, because it's always the quiet ones- nudge, nudge, wink, wink.
1. No Longer Alone

A/N– so, I've read a lot of fic. Maybe too much, but enough to think that maybe I can do this; maybe I can write fic too. I can form complete sentences. I can use spell check. I've actually read the books my fic is based on. How hard can it be? OK, that's not fair to the really awesome writers, but perhaps a dig at the bad grammar/text speak that some "stories" seem to use.

So here it is my first attempt at a Ron/Hermione fic. I'd come up with my own idea of what happened during that nineteen year gap and even fleshed a fair bit out in my head. But, as I've said, I've read a lot of fic. Suffice it to say, that fic has influenced my own version of things. In some cases, it matched what I had already thought of- in others I liked the authors' idea and altered my own. I have ideas for at least one year in the life of Ron & Hermione and I'm going to attempt to write all those stories. In any of those stories where I remember a particular influence I will gladly cite them in my story. If by some crazy chance someone reads this, and you notice your idea in my story without citation, please let me know. It's not my intention to slight anyone- I just haven't been keeping bibliography notes all this time and likely forgot.

So, since I don't know how far this will go, each story is intended to be independent, yet part of a greater whole. I make no promises of "completing" this story as I'm not sure how long I can keep this up (I'm not a writer, honest). Constructive criticism is always welcome, flamers will be laughed at. J.K. Rowling is to blame for all of this; it's her fault so don't come crying to me. Alrighty, enough of the jabber jawing- here's the story.

A/N2: so, I've begun the slow process of going back and cleaning up the grammar in these early chapters. I'm doing it on my own, using the skills bequeathed to me by HalfASlug. So they're probably not perfect, but should be much better than before.

* * *

**An Unconventional Fairytale: **No Longer Alone

_Once upon a time, in a faraway land, a beautiful princess slumbered in a castle tower …_

The sunlight peeked through the gap in the scarlet curtains. Hermione cracked open her eyes and gazed at the familiar sight. Her brain automatically tried to conjure up what class would start her day, but it was hazy and classes seemed so distant. As she slowly came to consciousness, she noted how warm she felt and how the sunlight was coming in from the right and not the left side of her bed. She awoke fully when the arm tightened around her waist and she held her breath.

_Oh, that's right._

A smile spread across her lips as she remembered how she'd gotten to the boys dormitory and into Ronald's bed…

_I've had enough trouble for a lifetime._

It was done. Harry, by coincidence or by plan, had become master of the three hallows and so cheated death one last time and thus defeated the dark wizard whom had marked him his equal sixteen years prior. The price had been terrible. Hermione didn't even know the count, but she knew those closest to her. Professor Lupin, Tonks ... Fred. That thought brought her eyes to the ginger man standing next to her.

When did that happen? When did he turn from boy to man? Was it outside the Room of Requirement when he remembered the house elves and sought to warn them- "We can't order them to die for us." Was it when he would sit in the chair next to her bed at Shell Cottage and hold her hand, "Just 'till you fall asleep," but would inevitably fall asleep himself. Or before that, when he would hold her and stroke her hair and whisper, "It's okay, you're safe now, it's okay." when the nightmares tore her from sleep. Or maybe it was when he carried her limp body, calling Bill's name, begging him to "Help her. You have to help her!" Or, when she clung to life, to sanity, her only thread the sound of his voice- "HERMIONE!"

Yes; all of it. Somewhere in these past months the immature boy with dirt on his nose became the man she knew he could be. It had been frustrating when he would fail, because she knew he was more than capable. He was quite clever, when he wanted to be. _Basilisk Fangs- s_he'd be jealous if she wasn't so proud. She squeezed her hand wrapped his and he looked down at her. Ron glanced at their clasped hands and back to her eyes. He gave a little smile, maybe a smirk. Looking back at Harry, "I don't know which I am more, hungry or tired."

They all let out a chuckle. Harry said quietly, 'Kreacher?" With a crack the ancient house elf appeared.

"Master Harry, Kreacher is glad to see you well."

"And I you, Kreacher." Harry said, kneeling down to closer to eye level. "I trust you're well, no injuries?"

"No Master, Kreacher is fine. Kreacher remembered what Master Harry told him. When the Death Eaters came to my Mistresses house, Kreacher came to Hogwarts straight away to hide, just as Master Harry told him to do."

"Yes, sorry about that. We really were looking forward to that roast. I'm glad you got away and were safe." Harry looked at Hermione a bit sheepishly before asking, "I take it the kitchens here are still intact?"

"They're still functional. Would Master Harry and his friends care for something to eat and drink?"

"That would be great Kreacher- perhaps in the common room? No rush." He added hastily, not to ire Hermione who only smiled wryly.

"Straight away, Master Harry." With a crack he was gone.

They made their way to Gryffindor tower, which was miraculously unscathed. Kreacher appeared with plates of sandwiches and mugs of pumpkin juice. The three friends ate in silence, trying not to consume the food to fast and make themselves sick. Or at least they did after Hermione admonished the boys for _shoveling food into their mouths like pigs._ Bellies full, Hermione caught Harry looking at them. They were sitting back, Ron's arm along the back of the sofa, slowly descending to be around her shoulders as she gradually sank into his side. Harry couldn't help but smile.

"I'm knackered," muttered Harry, "going up to bed." He lifted himself off the armchair, gave Ron and Hermione one last glance and smile before heading off to bed.

How many nights had she been alone with Ron? Why was this one different? _Right, the snogging._ "Sleep sounds wonderful." Hermione said. "But there's no way I'm going to bed this filthy."

"Sounds like a plan." Ron replied and stood up. He offered his hand to her and helped her up. They stood at the bottom of the dormitory stairs, neither sure what to do next.

Finally, Hermione turned to him. "I don't want to be alone."

The thought of going up to the girls' dorm, alone, didn't appeal to her. Ron looked into her tired eyes, took a deep breath, and grabbed her hand. He lead her up the stairs, stopping at the second landing with the door marked _seven_ and poked his head into the bathroom. She thought she heard water running, when he pulled her along to the next landing. This door was marked s_ix_, and he pulled her inside the deserted bathroom.

It was the exact mirror of the girls' bathrooms- four shower cubicles down one wall, sinks alongside and toilet cubicles along the other, fresh linens lined shelves. Ron led her to the last cubicle. "Take this one. I'll be right here next to you."

As he moved to pull the curtain on his cubicle Hermione stopped him. "Wait." Rummaging in the beaded bag, she pulled out pajamas for both of them.

"Thanks." He muttered as he took the clothes, his hand lingering over hers.

They disappeared behind their respective curtains. Last summer, as she packed the tent, a thought drifted through Hermione's mind that she would soon be alone with two young men. And as quickly as the thought came to her, she dismissed it. _That_ was the last thing she need worry about. Harry was like her younger brother so that wasn't even on the table, and Ron... well, Ron just wouldn't. Not that _she_ didn't think about it whilst showering in the tent- wondering what his hands would feel like on her bare skin. Hermione shook her head and tried not to think about the thin board of shellacked pine that was all that separated her cubicle from his.

As she started to peel the layers of clothes off, all of her injuries started to come into sharp relief. Muscles ached. Cuts and scratches stung. Her shirt adhered to her skin where the Fiendfyre scorched her. At last she stood naked under the warm water and let the ash and blood wash away. She must have whimpered, because Ron's voice drifted over the top of the cubicle. "Are you alright?"

"Yes." She replied. "Just sore."

"Okay."

She bit her lip to keep quiet as she used soap and a cloth to wash away the stubborn bits. She felt a nasty cut across her left shoulder blade and could feel a burn in the middle of her back. She had to wash her hair twice to get most of the smoky smell out. Bits had been burned off. Perhaps she could get Mrs. Weasley to trim it for her later.

She heard Ron's shower stop and soon finished her own. After toweling off, Hermione applied dittany to all the wounds she could, but the cut and burn on her back were out of reach. "Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you... could you help me?"

He was just outside her curtain. "What do you need?"

"I need you to apply some dittany on my back. You can come in."

She was sitting on the small bench just outside the shower, hair wrapped up in one towel, another wrapped around her body, but dipping down in the back to expose the wounds. Ron looked down at her bare back and gulped. His eyes hardened when he took in all the cuts, burns and abrasions that marred her otherwise perfect skin. He sat behind her and took the dittany bottle. Using a cloth, Ron tenderly dabbed dittany onto her wounds. The cut on her shoulder blade ran from spine to shoulder. There was no gash in her jacket, so it was likely from Gringotts. The burn was probably from the Room of Requirement. As he touched the cloth to it she sucked in her breath.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"It's okay. Just stings a little."

The dittany did its work and the sores started to heal. His eyes became fixated on a couple strands of hair that had escaped the towel on her head and a bead of water dripped onto her back. He brought his fingertip up to catch it, lingering on the smooth skin. Hermione's eyes slid shut at the contact. The breath she was holding slowly released when she felt his lips, tenderly placing a kiss on her shoulder.

"I'll leave you to get dressed." He whispered and left the cubicle.

She dried her hair, dressed and found Ron waiting for her at the door. They walked down to the seventh year's floor and he looked at her, as if searching for an answer. Apparently he found it, because he took her hand again and led her into the bedroom. The curtains on Harry's bed we're closed. Either Ron didn't see Ginny's shoes alongside Harrys under the bed, or he didn't care. He pulled back the covers over what had been his bed and turned back to Hermione. "Still don't want to be alone?"

"No."

He nodded and crawled into the bed, laying as far to the right as possible. She knew, after so many months, that they both slept on their right side. Apparently, he noticed too. She crawled in after him and after some limb negotiation they found a comfortable position on their sides, her head over his arm but not pinching off circulation. She lay her right hand into his where it rested on the mattress. She could hear him inhale deeply, as if breathing in the scent of her.

She was warm, it was over and she was exactly where she had always wanted to be.

*o*

His arm must have wrapped around her sometime during the night. He hadn't been presumptuous enough to put it there while awake. They had also gotten much closer- 'spooning' as it were. Hermione had read about how boys... men, would develop a, well, they'd be a little ... hard in the morning. (W_hy was she blushing?_) It was perfectly normal, and in fact considered to be a healthy response. It had nothing to do with the fact they had slept together, his arm around her, in his school bed. No, nothing at all. There was nothing to be flattered about. Not at all. Except maybe that they had slept together. In his school bed. His arm, tight around her middle. His erection, pressing against her bum. _Was he grinding_?!

"Er-my-nee."

She smiled. No, nothing to be flattered about at all.

Ron shifted, let out a deep sigh and froze. She took his arm before he could jump away. "Good morning."

He must have realized that he wasn't in trouble and settled back down behind her. "Morning."

They laid like that for several minutes, before Hermione twisted a bit to lie on her back to face him. "Hi."

"Hi."

They stared into each other's eyes, not quite sure what to say, not wanting to ruin the moment.

"How's your back?"

"Oh, fine, I don't even notice it."

"Good."

His hand was resting on her belly; he hadn't moved it when she turned over. Her top had ridden up just a bit, and where his skin touched hers felt as if it were on fire. Good fire, passion and heat, not scorching and burning. She'd had enough of that. She had to touch him. He had a scratch on his cheek, and her finger was drawn to it. She traced the faint mark and kept going to the corner of his mouth. His lips parted, just a bit and she felt his breath, hot and fast.

_Please_.

Did she say it out loud? Just think it?

His lips closed over hers, softly, tenderly. The fingers on his cheek slid to the nape of his neck, clutching at his long ginger hair. The hand on her belly wrapped around her waist and he held on as if she might slip away. The kiss deepened, someone moaned. She felt the tip of his tongue slide along her lips.

_More. _

She parted her lips and returned the gesture. He lightly sucked on her bottom lip. Back, forth, tasting, sucking.

_Grumble!_

They froze, parting; they looked down at his stomach. Another grumble and they both broke into laughter.

"Fuck." He sighed and flopped back on the bed. "Leave it to my stomach to ruin a snog."

Trying to stifle her giggles, Hermione sat up and looked at him. "We probably should be going downstairs anyways - before someone comes looking for us."

They're eyes met. "Yeah, probably a good idea. Don't want the wrong person finding us."

Pulling back the curtains, they found Harry's bed vacant and the beaded bag on his nightstand. They pulled out clean clothes and Hermione changed behind Ron's bed hangings.

As they turned to leave the room, he took her hand and stopped. "Hermione, are you…" He stammered, "I mean would you... do you wanna..."

She reached up, flashed him beautiful smile and caressed his cheek. "Yes Ron, I'm your girlfriend."

He smiled back at her, a goofy, crooked thing looking like the Bludger had come around from yesterday and hit him again.

"Wicked."

He bent over to kiss her one more time before heading down the stairs to the Great Hall hand in hand. Together, they would face whatever the future would bring them, which hopefully included breakfast.


	2. Open and Closure

**Chapter 2: **Open and Closure

"What's all this then?"

Four of the Weasley boys turned to look at George. He had been last seen staring at some empty point in space and didn't appear ready to look away any time soon.

The eldest brother gave him a good look. "Well, we're discussing going back to the Burrow before Mum and Dad. Since it's been a month, we want to see if any presents have been left for us."

All around them witches and wizards bustled around Hogwarts' Great Hall, carrying food or other supplies to the families and friends that had remained there through the night. Once the initial celebrations had ended, many had returned to their homes. Several others could be overheard talking about finding friends and family that had gone into hiding.

That morning, Ron and Hermione had come down to the Great Hall looking for breakfast. They found the Weasley's gathered around one of the many long tables tucking into eggs, beans and sausages. Harry and Ginny seemed to have become conjoined at some point during the night. His parents looked puffy-eyed and exhausted, but there was a sense of relief about them; six of their children _did_ manage to survive, and that was something to be happy about. Bill looked up and saw them come into the Hall, hand in hand. He gave them a soft smile and a nod of approval. They sat down with the family and enjoyed a hot breakfast.

After a while, the boys gathered around and started talking quietly. Words like 'Burrow', 'enchantments', and 'ghoul' were overheard. That's when George appeared. His eyes were dull, skin ashen, but he wasn't totally gone. He may have lost half of himself, but the twins had made a promise to each other, and George would be damned if he broke it.

"Well," George's voice rough with sadness. "Let's get to it."

The brothers rose from the table. Bill leaned down to Fleur, Ginny and his parents to let them know they were going. Hermione rose to stand with Ron.

"Hermione..." Ron paused. "Please. Would you please stay here? With Ginny and my parents?"

She opened her mouth to reply, but he raised his hand. "Yes, I know, you're perfectly capable and you've saved my arse more than I care to count but, please. Please."

Hermione's eyes softened and she gave him a small smile. She couldn't help it; he looked like a wounded puppy. "Very well, I'll stay."

His face relaxed. "Thanks. As soon as we know it's clear, we'll come straight back."

"I know. Be safe."

As Ron started to lean down to her, he could hear Charlie mutter. "When did that happen?"

Not hearing the answer, Ron leaned down to lightly kiss Hermione and flashed his brother a rude gesture behind her back.

As they left, George followed behind Bill, Ron, Percy and Charlie. He gave a look back, "Oi! Harry! Let's go."

Harry looked up at them, quickly back to Ginny and Hermione, then to the brothers again. The five Weasley's looked at him expectantly. With what may have been a swelling of pride, Harry gave Ginny a kiss and rose to join his brothers.

"Just 'cause he kills Voldemort, thinks he gets to be a lazy git."

The brothers laughed at George's snarky comment and realized that while he may be wounded, he would be alright.

Five Weasley's plus one left the Great Hall and disapparated back to Devon.

*o*

Hermione and Ginny offered to help around the castle however they could. The primary concern was for structural integrity and helping the wounded. Ginny joined a group clearing out corridors of debris and Hermione ended up bringing supplies up to the overtaxed Hospital Wing.

Makeshift gurneys lined the hallway for the minor injuries while the more severe patients filled the Hospital hall itself. Anyone with healing abilities was put to work. After seeing the supplies sorted and stacked, Hermione made her way back down the corridor to find more work.

It was the pink jumper that caught her eye. Despite the blood and dirt in her blond hair, there was no mistaking Lavender Brown. Hermione paused to look at her former roommate. She was in the hall, so her injuries must not have been severe, but bandages covered her hands, a calf and part of her face. She appeared to be sleeping.

Hermione found a scrap of parchment and a self-inking quill in her beaded bag. She wrote "Weasley's All-day Skin-Matching Concealer- it works." As she moved to lay it at the side of the bed, Lavenders eyes opened. "Hermione?"

"Yes? Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you."

"You didn't." Lavender glanced down at the floor near her bedside. "Would you mind, there is a glass of water just there."

Hermione looked and found the glass and held it up for Lavender to take a drink.

"Thank you. Madam Pomfrey says my hands will feel better soon. Then I'll be able to hold things."

"Not a problem," Hermione furtively glanced around. "Has anyone come for you? You're family?"

"Yes, Mum's here. She's getting supplies and instruction's to take care of me so we can go home."

"Good." The inevitable awkward silence threatened to settle around them.

"What's the note for?"

"Oh." Hermione picked it up and showed her. "I just thought, well, I don't know." She paused to stop rambling. "If there's a scar... on your face. You might want to try this- it works for me."

"Concealer? What do you need this for?"

Hermione looked down, a bit shyly. "From when we went to the Ministry, during fifth year, I had been cursed." She touched a spot just over her right breast, and turned a light pink. "Certain clothes don't cover it fully."

"Oh."

"You may not need it. But, just in case, I thought I'd..."

"Thanks."

Silence fell between the classmates.

"I'm sorry."

Hermione looked at Lavender with surprise. "For what?"

"Taking what didn't belong to me or, at least trying to. I knew he was yours, everyone did."

"Lavender..." Hermione started.

"No, really." Lavender cut her off. "He was always yours. I was… you see… I was jealous."

Hermione looked at her as if she had grown an extra head.

Lavender continued. "You were so smart; everything came so easy to you. Best in class, the teachers loved you. I just thought... it's just that, he'd gotten so attractive, you know? You didn't seem to be making a move, so, well, I did."

Hermione looked down at her feet; she had no idea that someone as pretty and popular as Lavender could be jealous of her. She was ashamed for have thought so poorly of Lavender in the past and for her own inability to, as she put it- 'make a move.'

"I'm sorry too, Lavender." Hermione forced herself to look the other girl in the eyes. "You're right, I didn't 'make a move'- I was too afraid to. What if he didn't feel the same way?" She paused. "Wait, what do you mean 'everyone did'?"

Lavender looked at her with sympathy. "It was plain as day, the way you two always bickered, like an old married couple. Everyone knew it, except for you two apparently. Some of the other students had a betting pool going."

"People were _betting_ on us?" She asked, incredulously.

"I think the twins started it."

Hermione rolled her eyes- _figured_.

"Anyway, I think that's why I tried so hard, you know, overcompensated to try to keep his attention. Deep down, I knew it wouldn't work, but that didn't stop me. But, you're together _now_, right?"

"Yes, finally."

"Good, how long?" Lavender inquired.

"Sorry?"

"How long have you two been, you know, official?"

"Ah, well, yesterday."

"Yesterday?" Lavender asked, surprised. "But I thought, you two were off together, on the run... yesterday?"

Hermione gave a resigned smile. "Yes, yesterday. It wasn't exactly holiday this past year. And, well, it's very _us_ isn't it? Right in the thick of things we finally get it together." She gave a little laugh and shook her head at the ridiculousness of it. When she looked back at Lavender she saw a genuine smile on her face. "I'm sorry for being horrible sixth year. It wasn't your fault. And I'm glad you're going to be alright, that... _monster_ didn't do worse."

Lavender smiled back. "I'll be fine, and thank you. I suppose a scar is better than the alternative. And thanks for the ointment, should come in handy."

"Take care, Lavender."

"You too, Hermione."

*o*

In the end it took all six of them, but it was Bill's curse breaking experience that probably saved someone's life. The Burrow had so many layers of protective enchantments over it the Death Eaters never got in. That didn't stop them from leaving a nasty surprise. Bill was able to detect the charm that had been so carefully laid over the ones the Order had left behind. Any family member that tried to pass through the wards would have been killed instantly.

The six men bombarded the shields and at last they gave way. Fortunately, that meant the house was intact. A might bit dusty, but nothing some handy wand work couldn't tidy up.

Hermione spotted Bill and Charlie enter the Great Hall and went to them for an update. She looked about and spotted Percy and George going for drinks and Harry looking about, probably for Ginny. "Where's Ron?"

Charlie smirked, while Bill elbowed him and answered. "He'll be along- said he needed to get something from Muriel's."

She ignored Charlie's immature display. "Oh. I suppose everything is safe then?"

"Yes, they added their own enchantment over our shields, but we broke it. The house is unlived in, but otherwise fine."

"There's Loverboy now." Charlie muttered and they turned to look.

"What's wrong Charlie," Hermione asked, "jealous?" She gave him a smirk and started towards Ron who seemed to have some sort of growth under his jacket- a squirming growth.

"Relax you beast. Did you want me to lose you in the floo?" Ron struggled against the squirming growth to free his jacket zipper. At last it gave way and it sprung free. He quickly extended his hands to deposit the fluffy ginger thing into Hermione's waiting arms.

"Crookshanks!"

"Figured you'd want to see the mangy beast. He's been cooped up at Muriel's' all this time; no one deserves that." Ron tried to shake the cat hair off his shirt and jacket. "Think he'd be a bit more appreciative."

"Thank you, Ron." Hermione buried her face in the soft fur as Crookshanks purred in contentment. "Ginny said they remembered him when they had to run to your Aunt Muriel's." She held Crookshanks to look him in the eyes. "You prefer the Burrow, don't you? More room to run and hunt mice and chase gnomes..."

"...attack Ron."

"Ronald," she admonished. "Crookshanks does not attack you. He's just being affectionate."

"You and I have very different definitions of 'affectionate' then."

"I don't know." She looked at him with sultry eyes. "You seemed to like my _affections_ this morning."

As she turned to walk back to the table where the Weasley's gather for meals, Ron couldn't stop the silly grin if he wanted to. _Sigh._ "Yeah." He slid into the bench next to his girlfriend and helped himself to bacon sandwiches.

* * *

A/N: To begin, I have to give credit where it's due. My inspiration for the overall title and beginning words of this fic come from Drappleluv on Tumblr: Drappleluv _dot_ tumblr _dot _com _slash _post _slash_ 22776780327 _slash_ love-is-like-a-fairytale

I love her cartoons and this one about Hermione looking for a toad in particular.

I'm not completely happy with this story, but there are some tidbits I introduce here that I want to use later. And I feel that this part of the story needs to be told, hence it appears here.

Anywho – thanks to those people who reviewed; it really is like crack.

The usual disclaimer – J.K Rowling is genius, I am not. I just want to Quantum Leap into Hermione.


	3. Elusive Slumber

**An Unconventional Fairytale: **Elusive Slumber

The stair squeaked and she froze. Hermione listened to the darkness but didn't hear anyone stirring. She continued her slow journey up the Burrow stairs to the bedroom just below the attic. She was able to creep her way up, avoiding most of the creaky spots. Outside the door, she paused and considered what had brought her here.

That afternoon everyone had arrived back at the Burrow from Hogwarts. At first, everyone piled into the sitting room, filling chairs, sofas and floor space. There were so many things to say, so many questions to be answered that everyone remained silent. Being together was more important. Eventually the family members became restless and started puttering around the house. Fleur was heard in the kitchen, seeing what food was available. She and Bill left shortly thereafter to do some shopping. Percy and Charlie went outside to check on the chickens and do a cursory de-gnoming. George remained downstairs, not eager to retreat to a room meant for two. He sat with his father, who wisely offered only companionship. Hermione and Ginny set out to the various bedrooms to open windows and cast out the accumulated dust. Mrs. Weasley kept herself busy by putting away things left out in their haste to leave. Ron and Harry traveled to Aunt Muriel's to retrieve the few belongings the family had brought along.

That evening, Fleur and Mrs. Weasley prepared dinner. Taking care of her remaining family seemed therapeutic for the Weasley matriarch and no one was heard complaining about being "overly mothered." After dinner, the family slowly made their way to bed. Percy put an arm around George- "Come on. My old room." George didn't resist. Bill & Fleur floo'd home with the promise of returning on the morrow. Charlie took to the twins' room, with a whispered warning from Ron about the 'products' left behind. Ron and Harry climbed to the top floor and Hermione joined Ginny, as always.

Ginny had no trouble falling asleep apparently. Hermione, on the other hand, lay on top of the covers wide awake. Gazing at the ceiling beams, she realized it had been over a month since she had slept alone. Well, not 'alone' per se, Ginny was right there. Without Ron's presence would be more accurate. During their first few nights at Shell Cottage, Hermione would wake from nightmares, crying and shaking uncontrollably. Invariably, Ron would get to her first, wrapping her in his arms and stroking her hair. He would whisper that she was safe now, no one would hurt her and it would be okay. In the morning, they would go about their business of planning to break into Gringotts. They never discussed the night before. After those first few nights, Hermione would find Ron waiting for her next to her bed. He'd sit in a chair, take her hand and wait for her to fall asleep. She would make it through the night and find him gone in the morning. The next day she'd catch him rubbing his neck and rolling his shoulders, which made her believe he had fallen asleep in the chair. Luna, whom she shared the room with, said nothing but would just smile in that all-knowing way of hers.

And so Hermione found herself at the attic bedroom door. It had been over a month; surely the nightmares had passed. She carefully twisted the knob and pushed the door in. In the moonlight she could make out Harry's form on the camp bed. Sound asleep- for the first time in his life he probably _wasn't_ having nightmares. Pigwidgeon's cage sat open at the window, awaiting his return from hunting. As she tiptoed into the room she looked up and saw Ron moving to sit up in his bed. "Is everything alright?" He whispered, concern creasing his brow.

She closed the door and made her way closer to him. "I'm fine. It's just, I couldn't sleep." She bashfully looked down to the floorboards before looking back to his face.

He held her gaze before pulling back the covers. "Com'ere."

He budged back to the wall and she crawled in next to him. Once again, they lay together on their sides, but this time his hand found her waist straight away.

"Why were you awake," she asked?

"Couldn't sleep either."

"I'm not bothering you then?"

"No." She could hear his deep breath behind her. "Just what I needed."

Contentment rolled over Hermione and she could feel her eyes get heavy. Ron's warmth proved far more effective at bringing on slumber than a glass of warm milk.

* * *

A/N: First, a big 'Thanks!' to my reviewers, your kind words are appreciated. I should probably confess that I'm really only interested in Ron and Hermione. The other characters are only props to be used to flesh out their relationship. I know I know, Harry, blah blah, chosen one, blah blah- I never found him interesting, as a character that is. The whole Hero's Journey thing is great- but when it comes to relationships, Ron and Hermione are Way more interesting.

Yeah, this story is just a little fluffball, but it's cute and sets up some issues to be dealt with in later chapters. But seriously, who here wouldn't tiptoe up to Ron's room for a snuggle?

J.K. Rowling owns Ron and Hermione; I just play with them while she isn't looking.


	4. of Fireworks and Teaspoons

**An Unconventional Fairytale: **of Fireworks and Teaspoons

It wasn't right.

The sun shone through scattered clouds that afternoon in early May. The graveyard in Ottery St. Catchpole seemed oddly cheery, despite the solemn family gathered at its newest plot. Arthur and Molly Weasley allowed themselves this day to be selfish; they clung to one another and let tears and sobs escape. On the marker at their feet:

Fred Weasley

Son- Brother- Nuisance

1 April, 1978– 2 May, 1998

Mischief Managed

The last part was added by his twin, the first bit was Fred's own request.

"This isn't right."

Hermione turned blurry eyes up to her boyfriend. "I know, he was too young."

Ron looked down at her. "No ...well, yeah... but I mean this." He gestured to the gathered family. "All this quiet and crying. Fred wouldn't want this."

"Then what are you going to do about it?"

Ron pondered this for a moment; Hermione could see the answer come to him. He bent down closer to her ear. "Stay here, I'll be right back."

He walked behind some trees and disappeared with a crack.

Hand in hand, Harry and Ginny walked over to her. "Where's Ron gone?"

"Not sure, said he'd be right back."

Just a few minutes later, Ron reappeared with two medium size boxes in his arms. He walked straight over to George, who stood at the foot of Fred's grave and set down the boxes. Ron looked to his older brother. "What do you say we do this properly?"

George looked into the open boxes. As recognition set in, a smile spread across his face. "There's enough in there to set the Muggle Bobbies on us."

"We can only hope. Care to do the honors?"

George stepped back several paces and pulled out his wand. "Wherever you are Freddie, I hope you're enjoying this."

With a flourish of his wand, the boxes filled with sparks and smoke. There was a bang and the first firework shot into the sky, quickly followed by another and another. Before long there were too many to count and the sky filled with color and noise.

Ron felt an arm wrap around his waist and he looked down at his girlfriend (_still getting used to that_). She gave him a beautiful smile as she craned her neck back to enjoy the show. Ron put an arm around her shoulders and held her close. He placed his other hand on his brothers' shoulder. Tears fell down George's face, and sobs threatened to break his smile. He would be strong for his lost brother, because he promised.

*o*

After the last of the fireworks burned themselves out and the local law enforcement lightly confounded, they all returned to the Burrow with lifted spirits. The six brothers then regaled the family with tales of their lost brethren and glasses of fire whiskey. The house was filled with laughter and clinking glasses; just the way Fred would have wanted it. Hermione helped Fleur and Mrs. Weasley prepare plates of food for the family to nibble on. A sit down dinner seemed unlikely with all the reminiscing happening.

As she carried out plates stacked high with sandwiches, Hermione looked around for Ron.

"Harry, did you see where Ron got off to?"

Harry nicked a sandwich from the plate she held. "I thought he went into the kitchen by you."

"No. I'm going to go look for him."

"Let me know if you need help?"

"I will."

Hermione started with his room. Finding it empty, she looked out the window towards the orchard. She could just make out his ginger hair between the trees. She made her way down the stairs, nodding towards the door at Harry's questioning eyebrows and continued outside.

She found Ron tossing fallen apples at nothing. His formal overcoat cast aside and sleeves rolled up. She found herself mesmerized by his exposed forearms, crisscrossed with faint scars, muscles flexing with each throw. She really was rather fond of his arms.

"Hey."

Hermione tore her gaze from his arms to his eyes. "Hi. You were gone, so I came looking."

"Yeah, sorry. I just needed some air."

She stepped up to him and took his free hand. "The fireworks were brilliant. George is actually laughing. Though I think he's also drunk."

"Pissed is more like it, but I think he'll be alright."

She looked up into his blue eyes. "What about you?"

Emotions flickered across his face, too quickly to decipher. He squeezed her hand and released it to walk a few steps away.

"I ... It's just that ... I don't know what to feel." He wiped his face roughly with his hands. "One second, I'm sad ... for George, for my parents ... then I get so angry. They took him! They took away their son, his twin ... They ripped off half his fucking ... soul!"

Ron pushed his fingers into his hair, pulling at the roots, squeezing his eyes shut and sliding his hands down his cheeks. After several long deep breaths he opened his eyes and looked at her over his fingertips. "Then I look at you."

The intensity in his eyes made her blush, but she didn't look away.

"You're like Quidditch and chocolate and Christmas morning all wrapped up in one. You're my girlfriend! Me! You picked me. It makes me so happy I feel like I'll burst. But then I see George ...or Mum, and I feel guilty for feeling so happy and that makes me angry all over again." His arms dropped to his sides, dejected. "Sometimes ... I just don't know what to feel."

Hermione stared at him for several long moments, as if seeing him anew. Her voice cracked with emotion. "Once, I accused you of having the emotional range of a teaspoon."

Ron puffed out a laugh and smiled faintly at her. "Up to a tablespoon then?"

"Actually, I was thinking grown man, who's had far too much dumped on him all at once- always worried about everyone else and never for his own wounds."

His face begged her for understanding. "What should I do?"

She pondered this for a moment. "I suggest you take each feeling in turn and deal with it."

"Heh!" Ron shook his head and gave her a wry smile. "Mental. Leave it to you to be logical about emotions."

"It's what I do." She walked over to him and pulled the brittle wand from his vest pocket.

"Where's yours?"

"Inside. I can't ... I just ... I can't." Hermione closed her eyes to the memories and shook her head. She turned away from him and pointed the wand at as clearing. With a swish and flourish she conjured an armchair, a small table and a chest of drawers.

"There." She handed him back his wand. "Be angry. Smash them, tear them apart, just dump all your anger."

He let out an uneasy chuckle. "Seriously?"

"Yes. Have at it."

She stood back as he turned to the death eater stand-ins. His first spell was a half-hearted tearing spell aimed at the chair. Then another. As the chair suffered more and more tears Ron's spells grew more aggressive. A table leg splintered. The chest flew back and drawers spilled out. Again and again, boards started shattering, fabric and stuffing went flying.

The destruction didn't bother Hermione as much as Ron's complete silence and the look of rage that had begun to twist his face. She didn't realize he had bottled up so much.

The spells started slowing. At last, Ron's arm dropped. The noise had scared off the birds, and the orchard was blanketed in silence. Hermione heard a choking sob as Ron collapsed to his knees. She crossed over to him and knelt down at his side. Her hand caressed his upper arm and he looked at her. The rage was gone, replaced with heartbreaking sadness. She picked up the wand and repaired the chair, giving them a place to sit back.

Hermione gathered Ron into her arms, his head buried into her neck. She held him as the sobs wracked his body, tears cascading down her own cheeks. Somehow they ended up with Ron leaning back on the chair, Hermione in his lap, stroking his hair. She could feel his tears soaking through the fabric of her borrowed dress robes and still she held him. An unknown amount of time passed when his tears finally stopped and he lifted his head to gaze into her eyes.

"Thanks."

"Of course. Feel any better?"

"Yeah, I do. You were right. Guess there'll be no living with you now."

"Ha. Ha. I've always been right. How have you managed_ all_ these years?"

"Glutton for punishment?"

They laughed at their own absurdity. His hand found her exposed calf and the laughter slowed.

"You look really pretty today. I forgot to tell you."

"Well thank you. And it's alright; you had a lot on your mind."

Ron looked shyly at his girlfriend. "Are you going to stay in Ginny's room tonight?"

Her cheeks tinted pink. "I haven't stayed there yet."

"I know. I was just checking … with today an all."

"Then I won't."

His hand still rested on her calf, his thumb making small circles on her skin. Goosebumps rose to the surface and she shuttered. His eyes focused on her parted lips.

"What was it you were saying about feeling each emotion in turn?"

Her breath came in short puffs. "To help you deal with each one, to express ..."

He didn't let her finish; his lips crashed down on hers. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers sliding into his hair, their kissing quickly becoming frenzied.

Over the last few days they hadn't had time for a proper snog, and they took advantage of the lack of audience. His arm tightened around her waist and the other hand threaded into her hair. Lips and tongues, it wasn't enough. His mouth broke away and traveled down her neck; wet, sucking kisses that left her gasping. He found her pulse point and halted, her gasp turning into a moan. Her eyes squeezed shut, her lips parted, Hermione could feel the spring in her gut tighten. _Oh. Could he? Would he?_ As his mouth sucked and nipped her skin, the spring released and her whole body shuttered, a long moaning sigh escaping her lips.

Ron looked down at the beautiful woman in his arms, face lax with bliss. _Did he just? Did she just?_ Her eyes opened and Hermione smiled contentedly. Her fingers caressed his swollen lips. She looked drugged. _Fuck me. I just made Hermione Granger come._

"I love you."

Her eyes widened in surprise.

"I always have. I just didn't know what it was, until recently." His fingertips caressed her cheek. "You are so beautiful."

And for the first time Hermione Grangers life, she _felt_ beautiful.

"I love you too. It's always been you."

"Even when I infuriate you?" He asked with a smile.

She answered his smile with her own. "Yes. Even then. Because you're the only one who can infuriate me so thoroughly."

"We're always going to bicker, aren't we?"

"I certainly hope so. Wouldn't want things to get boring."

"Mental, you are." He couldn't be sure, but Ron thought he heard his mothers' voice calling their names in the distance. He shifted as to help Hermione up. "Come on, let's head in, I've starving."

"You're always starving."

"Well, I'm a growing boy."

"Growing? Get any taller and I'll need a step ladder to kiss you."

"Don't worry; I'll always be happy to stoop over." Which he did to give her a peck on the lips.

She shook her head and gave him an exasperated smile. "Insufferable."

He took her hand in his, "I know. Come on, before there's nothing left of the ham."

* * *

A/N: First, I must apologize for the short chapter last time. As I told some reviewers, I know most of the bits of story I want to tell, but I don't know how long they are until I write them. And I knew this next story would be longer, and I wanted to get a chapter out last week, and since that bit was finished I decided to post it, and this sentence has become far too long for its own good, so I'll stop with the excuses.

Long and short of it – there may be more shorties in the future. Sorry.

Speaking of reviewers – thank you all for taking the time to chime in and let me know all this writing is actually worthwhile and not complete rubbish. Particular thanks to MissBeaver for the punctuation correction and HalfASlug for the British slang assistance (feel free to chime in anytime)! As always, constructive criticism is encouraged. And a special thanks to Rupert Grint for having such fantastic arms. insert girly sigh here

J.K. Rowling is Goddess, for she created Ron and Hermione.


	5. The Hand of a Witch

**An Unconventional Fairytale: **The Hand of a Witch

Remarkably, the shop looked like it always had. Ancient, dusty, every nook and cranny filled with thin box upon thin box. Except, it wasn't _exactly_ as it was before. There were gaps in the nooks and crannies; as if many of the boxes were stolen during Mr. Ollivanders' absence. Or perhaps they had been recently sold, with so many Muggle-borns in need of new wands; theirs having been taken by the ministry. Considering it had barely been a week since Voldemorts' defeat, and so many Muggle-borns still in hiding, most of those missing boxes had probably been stolen. It was a shame, thought Ron. But, at least Mr. Ollivanders' health had returned enough to open the shop for a few hours each day.

Ron Weasley held the door to the shop open for his girlfriend. Last night, after she had snuck up to his room once again, they lay snuggled in his small bed. He could see something weighing on her mind. Whispering so not to wake a snoring Harry, Ron tried to sort out what was bothering Hermione. She kept insisting it wasn't important, that it could wait, that his family needed him now. _So that's it then_. "I'm sure your mum and dad are alright."

Her eyes turned glassy and she turned away to hide her fear.

He rolled up behind her and curled his arm around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. "I can talk with Dad or Percy tomorrow; find out about getting port keys. We'll go, bring them back. Everything will be alright, you'll see."

He pressed his lips to her bare shoulder, looking down at her face. "It's gonna be alright." She didn't turn back, but she gave him a small nod in response. He lay down behind her, same as the nights before, and held her until her even breathing told him she was asleep.

Hermione had helped him deal with his conflicting emotions, so it was only right that he return the favor. He knew she needed to go to Australia soon, but certain things needed to be done first. He had noticed yesterday, when he found her helping in the kitchen, she was peeling and slicing potatoes the Muggle way. She refused to even carry the wand, much less use it. At Gringotts and during the battle, that was different. But it had belonged to _her_, even looking at it made Hermione cringe. Fortunately, Bill had come home that night to say Mr. Ollivander was opening his shop for a few hours every afternoon. So, here they were, stepping up to the slightly-tipsy counter, though this time they could see over the top.

"Mr. Ollivander?" Hermione called out.

Shuffling feet bought the tired old wizard from the back room. "Ah, I wondered when I'd see you. You've come for proper wands?"

Hermione nodded and reached into her beaded bag. She pulled out the curved walnut wand and set it on the countertop, disgust written on her face. Ron pulled the brittle chestnut wand from his pocket and set it alongside the other.

Mr. Ollivander picked up the chestnut wand with a slight scowl. "Not my finest work. I see why you want a new one."

"That and I really don't want the wand of a sodding traitor." Ron said, scowling. "Served its purpose though."

"Indeed." A quick turn of his wrists, _**crack**__,_ and the wand was snapped in two.

Ollivander turned to a case just behind him. "Your last wand was willow."

Ron nodded, though it hadn't been a question.

Taking a wand from its box, Ollivander held it out to the ginger. "Try this one."

Ron took the proffered wand in hand. He pointed it at a ledger book on the counter and muttered an old favorite. "Wingardium Leviosa." His brow furrowed a bit as the book lifted, sluggishly. "No, not that one."

"Agreed." Ollivander put the wand back and moved to a different stack. "Perhaps a different tact. Try _this_ one."

The effect was immediate. Ron could feel it up the length of his arm. With a swish and a flick, the ledger lifted high off the table and flew around the room.

Ollivander smiled, quite pleased. "Much better. Oak, 16 inches, unicorn tail hair. Strong, but flexible. An excellent fit."

Ron and Hermione shared a warm glance before turning back to Mr. Ollivander.

He had come back to the counter and picked up the walnut wand. "Such power. Put to such destructive use. Pity." _**Crack!**_ Another wand lay broken.

Ollivander leveled his eyes at Hermione. "Now, as for you." His gaze never broke away, and she began to feel self-conscience, but held her head steady, meeting his eyes.

A curious smile spread across Ollivander face. "I wonder. Yes, I think it is time."

He moved towards the back room, and took a few steps up an old rickety ladder. Reaching high, he pulled a particularly old and frayed box from the stack. Looking at her with that same smile, he held out the box to her. "Go on, give it a try."

Hermione gave the wandmaker a shrewd look, but took the box from him. She opened it to reveal an elegant wand of twisting wood. It was almost dainty. She carefully lifted the wand from its box. Where Bellatrix's wand had felt oily and profane in her hand, this was something else entirely. She felt it to her toes. Warmth, as if the wand was humming, contently. It _wanted_ to be in her hand.

A year ago, she would have dismissed the notion of wands being _unbeatable_ or _choosing_ allegiance as if they were conscience. But that was a year ago.

Hermione turned to point the wand at some leaves and paper scraps littering the floor. The incantation was barely formed across the plain her mind when she felt the magic surge from her heart, down her arm, through her fingertips and out the tip of the wand. The liter lifted, twirled, as two perfect canneries fluttered and chirped merrily.

"Bloody hell."

She could stop the smile and subsequent eye roll if she wanted to. "No need to panic, Ron."

"Right. Sorry. Reflex."

With a swish of the wand, Hermione lifted the enchantment and the leaves and paper fell back to the floor. She turned back to Mr. Ollivander and her eyes narrowed once more.

"Mr. Ollivander, why are you afraid of this wand?"

His eyebrows lifted in surprise at her insight.

"Yeah, she's clever like that." Ron proudly stated, leaning his forearms on the desktop. "Annoying sometimes, but brilliant."

She flashed him a look of mock annoyance, and he grinned back at her, unfazed. They both turned back to Ollivander.

"Well," Ollivander cleared his throat. "I made this wand many years ago, when I was first starting in the trade." He looked between the young witch and wizard, who were clearly interested in the story. So he continued. "I was, _experimenting_ with different woods and core materials to find what combinations worked best. Wand craft is an ancient art and well documented, but I wanted to try for myself." He pulled a deep breath and sat on a nearby stool. "I was in the Forbidden Forest, outside Hogwarts when I came upon a centaur mare, caught in a Tentacula vine. She was moments from death. I freed her and after catching her breath she offered me a gift for saving her life. I explained I was a wandmaker, and she gave me two hairs from her tail."

He let out a deep sigh. "Perhaps it was foolish of me, but I put those hairs at the core of a wand made of Passion Vine." He looked pointedly at the wand in Hermione's hand. "For years I tried to place that wand. I learned quickly that it belonged in the hand of a witch." Ollivanders' eyes looked around the shop, as if seeing raw magic flash and burst uncontrolled from days long past. "I stopped trying to place it shortly thereafter." He gave a knowing grin. "So many of my customers are children after all."

Hermione furrowed her brow in question, her head tipping to the side in thought. "What made to think to give it to me, now?"

Ollivander looked her clear in the eye, his face serious. "You are no longer that little girl who came into this shop eight years ago, Miss Granger." He leaned in close to her. "I was in that cellar too." Her eyes widened in comprehension. "I heard you... I heard you lie to her."

He leaned back and looked at her with understanding. "That wand belongs with a witch. Not a little girl, not any witch- an extraordinary witch. A witch filled with strength, bravery, passion. And here you are."

They thanked the wandmaker, paid for their new wands and headed down Diagon Alley to Flourish and Blots. Ron noted Hermione's eyes looked a little brighter, not sad like the night before. A new wand signaled a fresh start. And a wicked powerful wand at that. As they walked down the alley, hand in hand, Ron wondered if he could convince her to make a stop at Florean Fortescue's for some chocolate caramel ripple.

A/N: I wrote this story back in September 2011. It's been collecting dust until now. A little slang assistance from HalfASlug again (thanks!) and lots of spell checking against the HPwiki, and it's ready for prime time. I always wondered why there weren't more "Hermione's new wand" fics. Does anyone honestly think she _kept_ Bellatrix's wand?

To my reviewers and the couple of people who have favorite'd this story – my eternal gratitude.

Begin shameless plug My plot bunnies, being rabbits, have gone off and made little baby plot bunnies. Drabbles at best, I have written then down and made a new 'story' for them; in order to exercise them from my head. They're found under "Fairytale Droppings". So if you like what you read here, occasionally there will be updates over there with bits of story that are too small to play in this one. end shameless plug

Go ahead J.K. Rowling, rub it in, we all know you own Harry Potter.


	6. Picnic Under the Tree

**An Unconventional Fairytale: **Picnic Under the Tree

"What are you doing?"

Ron looked up from packing the rucksack. "Packing a lunch."

Hermione's eyes squinted in confusion. "Planning on going somewhere?"

"I was thinking it's a nice day for a picnic."

"Oh." Her eyebrows lifted, and her lower lip tried to pout. "It is a nice day." Her toe scuffed the floor board. "Were you planning to go alone?"

He looked down at her hopeful eyes and a little smile creased his face. "You might not want to come along."

"Oh? Why not?"

"I was going to fly there."

Uncertainty made her waiver. "Oh. Maybe Harry then..."

"He's snogging my sister, no need to witness that more than necessary." Ron stuck out his tongue in mock disgust.

"Ah." She paused, torn between wanting to picnic, alone, with Ron and having to ride a broom to get there."

Ron finally took pity on her. He stepped up close to her and took her small hand in his. "I _was_ coming to find you. There's this place ...anyway, I _do_ want to fly, but you'll ride with me. I'll go slow, and not high."

Hermione looked away with a sheepish smile. He tipped her chin up with his finger. "I'm not stupid. I want to be able to snog my girlfriend when we get there, and terrifying her on a broom isn't going to help that."

She gave a light laugh. "Did you pack a blanket to lie out?"

"Just need to grab one from the other room. Have everything else though."

Ron told his mother they were going out, and they went to retrieve his Cleansweep from the broom shed. While Ron mounted the broom, muttering something about 'missing me', Hermione strapped the rucksack to her back. Her hesitancy wasn't from lack of trust (Ron was excellent on a broom) fear of heights, or speed as Ron seemed to think. It's that she wasn't in control. Brooms just didn't cooperate with her, and since she couldn't control them, she cared not to ride them. It was always one of those things that she tried very hard not to let bother her, she couldn't be good at _everything_ after all. Right?

He turned to her expectantly. Being honest with herself, it _would_ be nice to fly with Ron and not be fleeing certain death. "Put your feet on the inside of the pegs, you'll have better support."

As she climbed on behind him. "Shouldn't _you_ have the better support? Being the one flying this thing?"

"I'm good. Hold on tight."

"Ah, I see the ulterior motive now." She smirked.

"Yes, you're on to me. But we're also off the ground, so it's too late to back out now." He took off across the field towards the orchard. True to his word, he did fly slow, slipping deftly between the trees. Hermione, arms wrapped around his waist, laid her cheek against his back and enjoyed the feel of the air swirling past them and the scenery passing by.

He took them beyond the field where they played Quiddich, to the edge of the property. As they passed the boundary fence, he flew lower still, skimming the tall hay grass that grew in the neighboring farmers' field. There was a lone tree at the near edge of the field; it was here he carefully set down.

"Alright?"

"Yes. That was wonderful."

Pride filled his smile as he set the broom down and took the sack from her. He pulled out the quilt and they laid it under the boughs. Ron pulled out the sandwiches, some cheese, apples and two bottles of butterbeer. He saved the pack of biscuits for later.

"Why did you bring us way out here? Muggles might be around."

"Didn't see any. We can toss up a ward if you like." He twisted off the bottle cap and took a long sip. "Used to come out here when I was younger- especially if Fred and George were being extra annoying. They never found me, or they didn't bother. Either way, I could be alone. Haven't been out here for a few years though."

"Did anyone know you were out here?"

"Don't think so. It was kinda my secret."

"Not any more. Now I know." She said in her 'informing' voice.

"That was the idea."

"Oh." She smiled bashfully and chose a sandwich.

As they ate in companionable silence, Hermione considered her boyfriend and his words. "They really were hard on you. The twins."

"Not really. Just liked to have a laugh is all." He replied between bites.

"No. They were." Concern etched her face. "I know you loved each other, but they could be very harsh. They had thick skin, those two, and they expected everyone else to as well."

He looked down at the quilt and bits of leftover crust. He wanted to deny it, to defend them (especially Fred), but his voice seemed to have run away.

She shuffled over to him on her knees, her hand reaching out to caress his cheek, pulling his eyes to hers. "I used to get so frustrated with you." She smiled kindly to him. "You're such a capable wizard, but you'd let your nerves get the best of you. You'd let other people pull you down." He tried to look away, flashes of a spectral 'Hermione' taunting him. "But I know better. I've seen what you're capable of, when you believe in yourself. I've seen your heart Ronald Weasley..."

His eyes snapped to hers, his nightmare revisited. Surely Harry didn't tell her…

"...and it is beautiful."

He felt his whole body relax; that nightmare was gone, vanquished the moment her lips had touched his that first time. This was his dream, _his_ Hermione. Books and cleverness and bushy hair. "I love you so much."

She felt herself blush and her lips pursed into her coy smile. "I love you too." She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. The kiss deepened and his hands found their way to her head and neck, pulling her forward. She went, willingly, into his lap and further as he lay back on the quilt.

Bodies pressed together, hands tangling in hair; they managed to keep it slow this time. At an almost lazy pace, they explored each other's mouths, lips, tongues; sucking, tasting, sighing. His hand slid down her back and found the hem of her top. Fingers crept under the fabric, searching for bare skin. A moan escaped her throat and he was encouraged further. His whole palm pressed into the small of her back, fanning the flame that burned in her gut. _At last._ How long had she craved his hands on her body? It was the only explanation why such a simple touch aroused her so quickly.

He nearly choked when he felt her hips push against his. As he sucked on her tongue, her fingers clutched at his hair and he felt her whole body writhe along his. _Bloody hell_. Her movements had a positive effect on his body and he felt himself wanting to push back. How long has he wanted to touch her, to have her, to feel her under him... _Fuck._

Ron loosened his grip, and released her lips. With his eyes squeezed shut, he looked like he was in pain. "What's wrong?" He opened his eyes to see that hers were unfocused, her lips swollen.

"Nothing. It's just... we should stop."

Her breath was in short pants. "Why?"

"I... we... not yet."

She pushed herself up to look at him more clearly. "Why? What's wrong? Did I..."

"No!" He interrupted. "It's not you. It's just that... you see, I... I don't know what to do."

Her brow shot up. Surprise and confusion had her mouth stuck. Ron moved to sit up, bringing her with him. Once she was no longer pressing against his body, he found he could think clearer. After wiping his face with his hands, he took a deep breath and confessed. "It's not that I don't know _what to do_, I know where everything goes. It just, I've wanted you so bad, I've dreamt about it. But now here you are, I've got you, but I realized I have no idea what to _do_ with you."

"Oh." She was beginning to understand. "Well, that's ok. You'll figure it out."

"No." He shook his head. "I don't want to... fumble with you. You don't deserve that." He looked uncertain, clearly thinking about something. She opened her mouth, but he spoke first. "I got a book."

"A book?"

"Yeah, when we stopped at Flourish and Blots. You were hip deep, so I kipped upstairs, you know." She nodded, knowing about the 'Not-Unless-You're-Of-Age section'. "So I got a book, just haven't had a chance to read it yet." He looked down, his face a similar color to his hair. There was a long pause.

"You mean to tell me, you're reading a book, about how to make love to me?"

He swallowed, and looked at her through his fringe. In a hesitant voice he answered. "Yes."

"Ronald Weasley that is the single most romantic thing you have ever done for me."

"Really?" Shock was written all over his face.

"Yes!"

"Oh."

"Why would you be afraid to tell me?" She didn't wait for his answer. "It's a book, why would I ever have a problem with you reading a book?"

"Well, I thought, you know the subject matter an' all."

She just looked at him, incredulously.

"Suppose you've already read yours?"

She didn't blink.

"Right, look who I'm talking to." He rolled his eyes and looked out at the field beyond her shoulder. Gears started clicking into place, and he looked back at her. "So, you've already... read a book... on the subject?"

There was a whisper of a smirk on her face. "Yes."

His adams apple bobbed. "Oh. Guess I have some catching up to do."

"All things considered, I'm still surprised you stopped when you did, being more... experienced than me."

"Well, as of this moment, we've gone beyond my _experience_."

"Really?"

"Yes really."

"But I thought... really?"

"What do you want, details? Yes, really."

"Well, how? In what way?"

"Pardon?"

"What part was _beyond_?"

His face was one part confusion, three parts terror. "This is one of those trick questions. Like '_do these robes make my bottom look big_?' or somesuch."

Her eyes rolled of their own violation. "Ron. I'm sitting in your lap. We were just snogging. And if we had continued I was rapidly reaching the point when I'd let you do unmentionable things to me." She took his cheeks in her hands. "You can say it. It's okay. No trick."

"The tongue sucking bit."

"Oh. Then where'd you..."

"The book." She tipped her head in question. "Well I flipped through it, didn't I; came across that bit. Thought it sounded good, gave it a go."

"I see. Well then, we'll have to find some time for you to read."

He smirked at her. "Is that right? Liked that, did you?"

"Yes. It was... effective."

"Effective? If you ground against me any more you would have rubbed my clothes clean off."

Hermione just shook her head and gave him a resigned smile. "Insufferable."

"I know. That's why you love me."

She turned in his arms, so that she could lay her head in the crook of his neck, her ear at his heart. "Merlin help me."

Ron sat back against the tree and held her. They listened to the birds and the sound of the wind in the tree boughs. An old question arose I his mind and based on what she had said, he decided to take a chance.

"Hermione?"

"Humm?"

"Question. Since we're, you know, snogging and lap sitting and... unmentionables."

He felt her check lift in a smile. "What's your question?"

"Did you song Krum?"

There was a pause. Finally she lifted her head to look at him.

"What makes you ask?"

"Just something I heard- wondered if it was true."

She formulated her response. "I wouldn't say snog. It was more like, very polite... dry… kissing."

"Oh. That was it?"

"There was more than one, if that's what you're asking?"

When Ron didn't respond she asked, "You're not still jealous of him?"

"Who said I was jealous?"

She looked incredulous again.

"Yeah, alright." He looked away.

"You have _nothing_ to be jealous of. Yes, I was flattered when he asked me and yes I did have a good time with him." She pushed aside his fringe. "I knew he wasn't the one for me. But the boy I wanted was fourteen years old, and hadn't quite caught on yet." At last he turned his eyes back to hers. "Took him a couple years, but it was worth the wait."

She bit on her lower lip and smiled at him. He smiled back. "Suppose he should be jealous of me now?"

"I'll say."

"Yeah, you never went flying on a broom with _him_."

"Ha!" she exclaimed. "Prat."

"Yeah, but I'm your prat."

"Yes you are. And don't you forget it."

As the afternoon wore on they answered more old questions, shared laughter and nibbled on the packet of biscuits.

* * *

A/N: as always, my thanks to my reviewers- I appreciate you taking the time to chime in.

I hope y'all like this chapter. I keep thinking there's something missing, but I read it and nothing comes to me. If you find it, let me know.

I'm currently in negotiations with J.K. Rowling to be the sole fanfic content provider for Harry Potter. Really.


	7. Can't Ask

**An Unconventional Fairytale: **Can't Ask

The pair sat on the picnic table just outside the Burrow, feet on the bench and elbows on knees, shoulder to shoulder. They were best friends. Silence was no stranger to them; conveniently, today silence was in a companionable mood. Their chosen mates were elsewhere and they found themselves alone for the first time since the New Year began. The four months previous had been a whirlwind, so the calm was a welcome change.

"I've just realized. I haven't fretted over you in days."

Harry turned toward Hermione and chuckled. "Missing it already?"

Hermione shared his laugh. "Honestly, after seven years, no. You?"

He looked at her with mock seriousness. "Hermione, you know I love you. Not in the slightest."

They laughed and leaned closer to one another, her head resting on his shoulder. "I've realized lately, just how much attention I paid you all these years; and how little I've paid others."

He remained quiet, not wanting to interrupt.

"I never understood why he had such confidence issues. I used to get so frustrated. He could accomplish anything when he believed in himself. So often I'd see him get close, only to fail. Why couldn't he just believe?" She took a deep breath and continued. "It's not easy, being a Weasley. They're good loving people, but you need a thick skin to be one of them. They show each other love with teasing and jokes. He doesn't have thick skin- a thick head, but not thick skin. But you can't show weakness, that only invites more teasing."

Hermione recalled a comment Mrs. Weasley said to her a few days past. "It's why he lashes out- defense. Trying to protect his soft heart. He's wanted so hard to be one of them: tough, funny, athletic. It's no wonder he struggled, trying to be something he wasn't. I wish... I wish I had seen it sooner. Understood sooner. Maybe things would have been different."

"I know what you mean. I didn't understand either, until it was too late. Or nearly anyway." _Sigh_. "He's loyal to those he loves. It's his greatest strength, though he doesn't see it. He's loyal to a fault. Even when his heart is breaking and he thinks all is lost, he never really stops. He gets lost from time to time, but his heart never really let's go."

Hermione's brow furrowed, the question had nagged her, but it had remained unasked. With a hesitant voice she asked, "Harry, what happened when he returned?"

He didn't look at her. "He saved my life, destroyed the locket."

"But between those two things? What happened? I know there's more."

_Sigh_. "There is more. But I made a promise to him. I can't tell you. Please promise me you won't badger him about it. _If_ he tells you, it has to be when he's ready. Promise?"

She saw how serious Harry was. "I promise."

"Thanks." He decided to shift the topic. "So, ah, things going well then?"

Hermione smiled shyly. "Yes. It's been great. I won't say everything will be perfect from now on, but it's certainly much improved. Less bickering at least."

"Heh."

She turned to face him. "What?"

He had difficulty keeping the smile off his face. "Oh nothing."

"No, what's so funny."

"Just something Ginny said."

She wouldn't be deterred. "Which is?"

His cheeks turned a light shade of pink. "When you and Ron bicker, she has another word for it."

Now he really had her interest. "Yes?"

He looked at her with a forced serious face. "Foreplay."

Her eyes grew wide and her face and neck turned scarlet, but Hermione did not deny it. She just turned away to hide her embarrassment.

"I'm happy for you, both of you. Been a long time coming."

She composed herself before turning back. "Thanks." Her eyes looked out towards the orchard, perhaps beyond. "I really do love him Harry."

"I know. And I know he loves you too. I think he's quite lost without you."

Her focus returned to the yard before them. "You could say the same about me. When he was gone, I was just so... empty." Her shoulders slumped at the old memory, but then she remembered the friend sitting next to her. "Don't misunderstand, I don't regret staying, it's just..."

He shook his head. "I know. You're my best friend, my sister, but it's not the same. Without Ginny, I felt the same thing- this void that sits there like lead. I knew she couldn't be with us, but that didn't stop me from wanting her there. And Merlin knows I'm a poor substitute for Ron." Harry let out a sad chuckle.

A short laugh broke her sigh. "We really were miserable, weren't we?"

The shared memory brought a stillness to the friends. They both turned at scrape of the kitchen window opening to the left. The sound broke the silence.

"So, I overheard something about getting port keys. When are you going to Australia?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Not sure, soon hopefully. I just... I'm so scared Harry. What if they hate me for what I did?" Tears welled in her eyes and threatened to fall.

Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. "Never. You'll explain it to them and they'll understand. I'm not saying they won't be angry; I'm certain they'll be angry. You _did_ alter their memories so you could go off and fight in a war. Any parent would be angry, but only because they'd worry. But they won't hate you."

The sniffles had started. "I want to believe you. It's the explaining bit that worries me, I'll probably be a wreak."

"Maybe. But you won't be alone, Ron will be there." When there was no confirmation, Harry pulled back to look at her. "I thought he was going with you?"

She sniffed again and looked down at her feet. "We haven't talked about it."

"Well I'm certain he'll go with you."

Her voice was tiny. "I can't ask him."

"Don't you want him to?"

"Of course I do. I just can't ask him. With everything that's happened, his family needs him. I can't ask him to go to the other side of the world for who knows how long."

Harry couldn't argue with her. "Well you're not going alone." He put his arm around her shoulders again. "I may be a poor substitute, but I won't let you go alone."

She offered a sad smile in gratitude. "Thanks."

"You followed me through fire, literally at times. It's the least I can do."

The best friends sat in companionable silence and watched the pixie's flutter around the garden.

Through the open kitchen window, Mrs. Weasley frowned with worry before returning to preparing supper.

* * *

A/N: As always, thank you to my reviewers. I always enjoy seeing who keeps coming back for more, but I really love when a new reviewer chimes in- word is spreading. I also see many of you have favorite'd this story and/or me and that makes me all blushy.

Thanks for Reading!


	8. Homecoming

**An Unconventional Fairytale: Homecoming**

Dinner was a quiet affair that evening at the Burrow. Charlie had announced that morning he was going to acquire port keys to return to Romania shortly; his dragons probably missed him by now. It resulted in a solemn evening.

"Speaking of port keys, I was able to secure yours to Australia, Hermione," said Arthur, between bites of Sheppard's Pie. "There's a transfer at the Ministry post in India, but from there it's straight to Melbourne."

Hermione smiled kindly, "Thank you. I really appreciate it."

"They're for early next week. I figured you'd want some time to get things ready. Kingsley mentioned something about sending an Auror in the next day or two so we can check on your house, make sure it's safe."

"I hadn't thought about that, thank him for me."

Arthur patted the young woman's hand, "Of course dear."

Molly stood to clear some dishes from the table, "I'm sure you're anxious to get your parent's home safe and sound." She walked around the table and laid her hand on Hermione's shoulder. "But we'll not be having you go off half way 'round the world alone. Ron will go with you."

Hermione's mouth dropped open and words started to tumble out. "But… I couldn't... surely he should stay..."

Molly paused at the kitchen door and waved her hand dismissively, "Nonsense. You'll go along, right?" She gave Ron a pointed look. It was unnecessary.

"Yeah." Ron looked back to Hermione and hunched down to speak to her quietly. "Don't you want me to come with?"

She looked up to his pleading blue eyes and felt her heart skip a beat. "Well, yes, of course. But I wouldn't want to take you from your family. They need you now."

"But, Hermione, you are my family."

He said it so simply and so honestly, her heart no longer skipped. It stopped.

By the end of desert Ron was starting to worry about Hermione. She had become very quiet after he told her he would go along to Australia. He hadn't realized she didn't think he would go with her, or he would have said something sooner. He hadn't really thought about it; he just figured he was going.

After dinner, the family retired as usual. Up in his room, Ron lay back in his bed, waiting for her to come up.

Right on schedule, she crept into his room but did not tip toe over to him. Instead, she walked straight to Harry and prodded him. "Harry."

Sleep had yet to claim him. "What?"

"Out."

"What?"

Clearly, he hadn't heard her. "Out."

"Where'd you expect me to go?"

"I don't care. Not here."

Harry rolled his eyes and tried very hard not to think about why he was being evicted. "Fine." He pushed his glasses back on his face, took his wand and the quilt off the camp bed and left the room. Hermione closed the door before bothering to decipher his muttering. She flicked her wand to put a silencing and locking charm over the door. She didn't want any intrusions. She needed to snog her boyfriend.

When Hermione turned to Ron he was sitting up in bed, eyes about ready to pop out of his head. She couldn't help but smile at him, actually nervous about his girlfriend locking them in his room together. Maybe he thought she was angry about his coming with to Australia. Time to put his mind at ease.

"Stop panicking, Ron. I'm not going to yell at you."

"Oh. Good." He didn't look any more at ease. "Why'd you kick Harry out?"

"Because if he stayed we'd have to charge admission."

His forehead creased with confusion, "Wha-" Her lips cut him off. She had straddled his lap and pushed her hands into his hair. His automatically went to her waist and pulled her tight against him. She sucked his tongue and he moaned; it really _was_ effective.

As their mouths continued to co-mingle, his hands found their way up her pajama top. The skin along her back was smooth and warm. Her lips broke from his to let out a moan; he took the opportunity to work his mouth down her neck to that place that made her come in the orchard. She quickly figured out his plan and tipped her head back to give him better access. "Oh, Ron."

Hearing her breathy voice say his name only fuelled his desire and he latched onto her neck, right above the collar bone. She clutched at his hair and pushed against him, her breath catching. Heat pooled low in her belly and she could feel the spring tighten. Just. Right th…

_Oohhhhh_

Looking down at him, she could see the look of satisfaction on his face. He _knew_ what he had done. She didn't want to wait for him to read his book; time for a more _hands on_ lesson.

"I know you want to read your book. Please do. But right now I'm thinking along the lines of a private tutoring session."

"Oh?"

Realizing what she was about to do, her eyes closed in determination. She found the hem of her top and lifted. She dropped the shirt to the floor and for a moment she didn't want to open her eyes; surely she wasn't much to look at.

"Wow."

His voice was so soft she almost didn't hear it over her own pounding heart. Curiosity opened her eyes and she found his staring in wonder. They sat like that for several moments, only the sound of their quick breaths filling the air.

"Don't you want to touch me?"

"Fuck yeah."

She would analyze why that aroused her later. "Go ahead."

"But…" He looked up to her eyes, unsure.

She took his hands in hers and brought them to her small breasts. His large hands covered her completely. A strangled sigh escaped her throat and he tried to pull away.

"No. It's alright. Just be gentle. I'm… they're… sensitive."

With tenderness he didn't know he was capable of, his hands slowly drew down her chest so his fingertips could caress the skin of her breasts. Her nipples had tightened as had his throat. He had reached the curve of the underside and, at the sound of her sigh, he looked up to her face. Her eyes had slide shut and her lips parted. _Is this what heaven felt like?_ She was so beautiful. And his. He wasn't sure what he had done to deserve her, but he wasn't about to start questioning it now.

He didn't want to stop touching her, but the heat was becoming too much. He quickly sat up to peel off his own shirt and toss it to the floor. Her eyes were open again and looking at his bare chest. It wasn't anything she hadn't seen before but the situation had changed. Her fingers pushed the fringe out of his eyes and she felt her heart swell at the depth of love she saw there. There was no doubt; Ronald Weasley was her soul mate.

Part of her wanted to brush off such silly notions like 'soul mates' but when presented with overwhelming evidence to the contrary, she had no choice but to accept it as truth.

Hermione slipped her hands over his shoulders, her fingertips grazing along his splinching scar, pressing their bodies together with a shared sigh. His hands wrapped around her and settled on her waist and shoulder blade.

"I love you, Ronald Weasley. In fact, I'm pretty certain I'm going to love you forever."

"Promise?"

_Figures_. Words that would send most young men running for the hills, gave _him_ hope.

"Promise."

Ron lay back, pulling Hermione down on top of him. There were more gentle caresses and kisses, until at last they fell asleep; her resting peacefully on his chest, his hands wrapped at her waist. There was a sticky mess in his pants, but he would deal with that in the morning.

*0*

It was midweek, so people were still at work or attending school. A tall, distinguished looking gentleman stopped at an apparently empty part of the street. At least the muggles paid it no mind. He stepped through the unnoticed front gate and, with a glance around, waved his hand over in an arc and slipped from sight.

Hermione, Ron, Harry, Ginny, Arthur and Molly Weasley each stepped to the gate and through the ward Kingsley Shacklebolt had just put in place. He stood at the front door, waiting for them.

"I've checked; the outside is clear," Kingsley declared.

Ron looked to the Auror, "So they didn't find the house?"

Kingsley shook his head, "You don't spring a trap _outside_ a house." He stepped through the front door, and still nothing happened. "Or in the foyer. Is the house intended to be empty?"

Hermione answered from behind him, "Yes. My parents should have taken everything with them."

He looked behind him at his companions. "This won't be subtle."

A flash and a wave of light radiated from his wand, passing into every room on the first floor.

Arthur, wand at the ready, looked around the front room, "Nothing here."

Kingsley looked at Ron and then Harry, as if he were giving a lecture, "No. To spring a trap, you want to get the person deep inside, then, you distract them." He turned to the young woman at Ron's side, "Hermione, where is your room?

She looked up at him, understanding his meaning, "Upstairs, last on the right. I warded it so my parents wouldn't know it was there."

With a nod, Kingsley moved to go up the stairs, "Arthur, check these rooms."

He could see from the top of the stair the anti-muggle charm had been broken. A wizard would have seen through it, but noticed the distortion. He signaled to the others to remain behind. Kingsley carefully cast a spell to push the door open. As he looked into the room, he released a resigned sigh and cast the Revealing spell again.

A sound, like a snap, was heard as the charm was broken. Kingsley addressed their confused looks. "Trespass spell, similar to a taboo. I wonder who it would have alerted," he asked rhetorically as he looked further into her room. "The rest of the house will be clear. They're intent was capture."

Hermione came up behind him, "Let me see."

Kingsley gave her a hard look before nodding and stepping aside.

She entered the room and looked around. At first, she simply stood there; Ron watched her from the hallway. His face fell with concern as he noticed she had started trembling. With a sob, Hermione collapsed to her knees. Ron was by her side immediately. Once she was safely ensconced in his arms, he finally looked around; his arms tightened of their own accord.

Her clothes and beddings have been slashed and torn to shreds. Books turned to ash. The furniture smashed. And on the wall, written in what appeared to be blood, "Mudblood".

The rest of the party entered the room and halted. Shock and worry marred everyone's features. Molly, with a grim determination set on her face, shooed everyone out and down the stairs.

Ron pulled Hermione into his lap as he sat back against the bed. Her tears soaked his shirt, but he didn't care; at least he wasn't the one who made her cry this time. Though, he did have other skills. "So, you like blue?"

He could hear a chuckle through her tears, "How'd you guess?"

"Oh, I don't know. Couldn't be the wall color, or the draperies, or the duvet. I think that's a duvet."

She looked up at his with a raised brow, "Duvet?"

"What? I heard you say it before." His voice trailed off, "Had to ask Ginny what it was."

She shook her head with a smile, and rested it back on his chest, trying not to look at the remains of her childhood.

"It doesn't matter to me. You know, that you're muggle born. You know that, right?"

Hermione looked into his eyes, now very serious. "Yes. You made that clear when you hexed Malfoy to belch slugs."

"That spell backfired."

"Only because your wand was broken. If it hadn't been you'd probably still be in detention."

"Heh, yeah. Probably."

Her face softened and her smile was warm, "I never thanked you, for defending my honor. "

He shrugged, "No problem. The slugs stopped... eventually." His mouth twisted in memory of the foul experience.

"Saying that you love me was also an indicator." Her smile grew wider.

He returned her smile, and placed a kiss on her forehead. He looked up and took in the sight around them. "Don't worry about the room; we'll get it cleaned up no time. Shame about all your books though."

She looked at the remains wirily, "It was quite the collection. But none of it matters. All the important things are in a box in the burrow attic."

"Then what's wrong? What made you cry like that?"

It seemed like she wasn't going to answer; as if saying the words might make them come true.

"They came."

Her eyes became glassy again and her hands fisted into his shirt. "Death eaters came looking for me, or at least a way to get to me. If I hadn't sent my parents away, they would've been captured. And then, they'd use them the get to me. They would have tortured them..." Her words descended into sobs that wracked her body.

Ron wrapped her up closer, tight as he could. "It's OK now. They didn't get them. Your parents are safe because you protected them."

Tears running down her face, Hermione looked at Ron fiercely, "I'm ready to get them. I'm ready to go to Australia. Even if they hate me, it doesn't matter. They're safe. My plan worked. They're safe."

Ron wiped the wetness from her cheeks with his thumb. "They're not going to hate you." He would make sure of that. He pulled a clean hanky from his pocket and helped dry her eyes. "Come on, let's go downstairs."

Without protest, she followed him down to the sitting room. Molly stood and appraised the young woman. With no words, she embraced Hermione with a motherly hug. Pulling back, Molly took Hermione's cheeks in her hands, "Anything up there you want to try to keep?"

"No."

"Good. Now, don't you fret. We'll get it tidied."

Kingsley followed Molly up the stairs. The two of them banished the ash and torn fabric. The furniture was repaired, but the wall was another matter: the words were indelible. Kingsley traced around the word and the drywall pulled away from the wall. A twist of his wand and the drywall compressed to a ball, and then dissolved into dust, which he banished out the window.

"I'll send in a repairman to fix the wall tomorrow."

With the room restored to order, though devoid of decoration and personal affects, Hermione could bring her parents home with one less thing to worry about. It was going to be hard enough telling them the truth as it was.

Molly turned to their old family friend, "So, Kingsley, you'll be joining us for dinner?"

* * *

A/N: Ever start out thinking you were going to write one thing, and end up writing another? Ever have your characters take over and start writing their own story, when yours was so carefully thought out? I wasn't expecting lemons at this point; alright, not a 'lemon' per se, but more like a lemon tree, in full bloom. I thought Ron was just going to grab her bottom, maybe his pants would get too tight, but then Hermione goes and takes her top off. I was saving that for Australia; but when I tried to take that bit out of this story, Hermione started looking very cross at me.

In other news, I've apparently gone mad.

A great big THANK YOU to HalfASlug for "sneak previewing" this chapter and touching up my punctuation while she was at it. In return, I will highly suggest to everyone that they go read her stories, as they are quite excellent.

I forgot to put the disclaimer in the last chapter and the world didn't end. I'm figuring J.K. Rowling doesn't feel threatened by me.


	9. The Journey The Telling

**An Unconventional Fairytale: The Journey**

This was either going to go quickly, or it was going to be another camping trip across the countryside. In winter. Again. Ron was hoping for the former.

Hermione had been a nervous wreck that morning. She looked all put together, but he could see it. Her hair seemed extra bushy and her eyes didn't shine like normal. There was no helping it. They only way out was to find her parents, so that's what they would do.

His mother pulled him down and squeezed him into one of her typical crushing hugs. "Be careful. Be safe." And for him alone, "look after her."

"I will, Mum."

She looked up at him and her eyes shone with unshed tears and something else, like she wanted to say something, but he couldn't tell what.

He was surprised he didn't get a lecture about going off to parts unknown alone with his girlfriend. Of course, there was that 'Talk' his father gave him the other night in the shed that he'd just as soon forget. It had clearly been a well-rehearsed talk, seeing as he'd probably given it at least three times before him (Ron just couldn't picture Percy needing 'The Talk'). Some of 'The Talk' had been pointless; of course he respected Hermione (that was a given, he was reading a bloody book for her, wasn't he?). And, Fuck!, no he wasn't going to _coerce_ her into doing something she didn't want to. (Had his father even _met_ Hermione? She'd hex his bollocks off!) And yes, he knew the charm, but no he hasn't practiced it. (Besides, Hermione probably not only knew it and could perform it flawlessly, but has also written a summary of its pros and cons and compared and contrasted it against several foreign variations.) In the end, 'The Talk' had done nothing but embarrass them both and make dinner conversation awkward.

It's not like he was going to be shagging her... anytime soon. Merlin, he'd barely gotten through the first part of his book "Part One: Respecting Her Mind ...learning to listen." It didn't help that he kept flipping to the section on respecting her body. Of course, if she wanted to have another private tutoring...

"It's time! Ron, pay attention."

There were more quick hugs, and Harry embracing them both, ("Look after each other."), they took hold of the soup ladle, the string yanked their navels and they were off.

*0*

The layover in India was far too brief. Ron was heard grumbling about never scheduling two port-keys so closely together next time, much less being thrown "arse over tit" across two continents.

At the Ministry Post in Melbourne, their contact, Lisa, ushered them into an anteroom with plush sofas and refreshments. Once they had relaxed and it no longer looked like their eyeballs were spinning in their heads, she brought them up to speed.

"Minister Shacklebolt sent ahead some information regarding the Muggles that had been placed in protection and that you're here to collect. We were able to acquire the address for the Dental Surgery the Wilkins' work for."

Hermione's eyebrows lifted in surprise, "You've found them? So quickly?"

Lisa looked slightly affronted. "Well, yes. The Minister said to look for a Wendell and Monica Wilkins, possibly in the vicinity of South Yarra, and very likely practicing Dentistry. I was able to find them in the phone listings with little trouble."

Hermione's breath caught for a moment at the thought that her parents had been easy to find. Ron gently gripped her knee, "Having that information probably helped."

Lisa nodded enthusiastically, "Oh yes, Mr. and Mrs. Wilkin's private number is not listed, so not knowing they were dentists would have made this much harder."

Hermione felt herself relax just a bit, "Do you have their private address now?"

"Ah, no. Minister Shacklebolt was clear. He didn't want anyone here to contact the Wilkins'. To avoid any problems, we did not have them followed." Lisa flipped through the file of papers in her lap, "I have the address for the office, but it's after hours, so you'll have to wait until morning to contact them."

"I see." Hermione turned to Ron, "I brought some Muggle money, so we can find a hotel for the night."

"That won't be necessary," Lisa cut in, "The Ministry has secured hotel rooms for you for the evening. Also, the Minister said there was a chance you would want to travel via airplane when you return to England with the Wilkins', so I have arranged all the necessary papers for you both."

Hermione nodded in gratitude. "Thank you, Lisa. We appreciate it."

Hermione was eager to get to the hotel. Despite having just left, she felt exhausted. The closer they got to her parents, the more anxious she became. She would be glad when it was finally over.

A Ministry car dropped them off at a rather posh looking hotel and they were given keys to their rooms. Standing in the hall, she watched as Ron looked at his key number and, shaking his head, stick it in his pocket. "Waste." He joined Hermione and they entered her room together.

She stood at the foot of the bed, hugging herself and looking lost.

Ron spoke from the entryway, "You said you were ready. Are you sure you don't want to wait?"

"No. I need to do this. It's just..." He had moved up behind her so that he could hold her in his arms. She relaxed into his embrace, thankful that it was he and not Harry there with her. "I just hope I can hold it together long enough to reverse the charm."

"Of course you will. You're always brilliant under pressure."

"I'm glad you're here, Ron."

"I'll always be here. Whatever you need."

He dropped a kiss on top of her head, and removed his coat and shoes. Then, he helped her out of hers, and put the beaded bag on the dresser. She watched him look questioningly at the television; she'd show him how it worked tomorrow but right now she needed quiet. He sat back on the bed and she crawled up to snuggle into his chest and arms. There they sat until hunger finally compelled them to order room service.

*0*0*0*

**The Telling**

They stood in front of the house while Hermione gathered her resolve. Twenty minutes previous they had waited in a Ministry car, dressed as a taxi, outside the Dental Surgery for the Grangers to leave.

Now, Ron watched as Hermione took several deep breaths and, at last, opened her eyes that were set in determination. Looking around to make sure there were no Muggles about to walk by, they approached the door. Ron rang the bell, and his hand slipped into her free one and gave it a squeeze of support. She squeezed back as the door opened.

"Yes? May I help you?"

Her father looked at the two strangers with polite inquiry. He settled on Hermione, and his brow furrowed. "Do I..."

"I'm sorry."

Hermione's hand lifted and pointed her wand at her father, "Memoram Liberia."

His eyes glazed and he took a step back. Ron quickly moved into the foyer and took hold of Warren Granger so he wouldn't fall. Hermione stepped in as well and closed the door. She could hear footsteps from down the hall.

"Wendell? Who is it dear?"

Her mother stopped short when she saw the young woman before her. Hand starting to shake, Hermione cast the same spell at Margot Granger, and she rushed forward to catch her mother.

"Hermione?"

She looked up to see her father, eyes no longer glazed, but still confused. Her mother recovered as well. "Hermione? Sweetheart!"

Embraced in her mother's arms, she felt her father join them and was reduced to tears.

"Sweetheart. There, there, it's all right. Whatever it is, it will be all right."

Her father looked up from his daughter to the young ginger lad standing back in the foyer. "What happened? Why... we're in Australia. What..."

Ron stepped forward, "We'll explain everything. It'll make sense once you hear Hermione out."

Warren nodded and moved everyone into the front room where they could sit. He and his wife sat together, and Hermione sat at the edge of the adjoining sofa. Ron sat near her, but gave her some space. It seemed like the thing to do. Hermione dried her eyes and took a calming breath.

Ron had never spent much time with Hermione's parents. Sure, he'd met them at King's Cross a few times, but that was the extent of it, so he had no idea how they would take the news that their daughter altered their memories and sent them to Australia so that she could go off to find pieces of a Dark wizard's soul in order to destroy them and, in doing so, destroy the wizard.

Apparently, they were taking it well. At the very least they were letting Hermione tell her story, saving judgment for the end. For Hermione's part, she was holding up. Her tears were held mostly in check, and she managed to tell their story without too many pauses. He noticed she left out the bits about him leaving and her torture, which was probably for the best. Even Harry had left out those bits when he told the family the story of their past year. When he asked Harry why he didn't tell about Ron's leaving, Harry only said it was between the three of them and of no one else's concern.

Hermione was nearing the end of her story, the parts where friends and family started dying. Her breath caught and the tears finally dropped from her eyes. Ron immediately scooted over to her and wrapped his arm around her in support. Without looking at him, she clutched his hand into her lap and kept going. At last, she was done, and there was silence. The Grangers were clearly still processing what they had just heard.

*0*

"I understand... if... if you're angry with me... for what I did."

Her parents looked to each other in silent communication. When Margot looked up at the pair sitting on her sofa, she nearly gasped at the look Ron was giving them. It wasn't anger, but rather a fierce look of protection. When Hermione had finally started to cry, her instinct was to reach out to her daughter, but this young man had beaten her to it and now he sat, arm around her shoulders, protecting her. He would defend her, even from her own parents if he had to. He had sat back and let her tell her story in her own way, but when she became vulnerable, he was there. And perhaps even more telling, Hermione had let him.

_Oh, Hermione, at last._

Margot turned back to her husband and their eyes met. He took her hand and looked to their daughter. "That was a very dangerous thing you did, hunting such evil things, fighting those people. Just the three of you, you're still so young. It was foolish," he looked to his wife for confirmation. "It was also incredibly brave."

Hermione lifted her eyes from the clasped hands in her lap back to her parents with a glimmer of hope.

"As for changing our memories, sending us away, I can't say I'm too pleased you didn't ask first. But I want to believe you, about these terrible people. I know my daughter, I know she thinks things through and takes the best course of action. I want to believe that you thought you had no other choice."

Her mother finally spoke up, "We're so proud of you Hermione. You've become such an amazing young woman." She reached out and took Hermione's hand, "But don't you dare ever take my daughter away from me again."

Hermione's eyes widened at her mother's strong tone. "I only wanted to spare you, in case something happened..."

"Oh, I understand _why_ you did it, just don't ever do it again. Now that everything is out in the open I understand what's been wrong with me this last year." Warren rubbed his hand along her back, his head softly nodding in understanding.

Hermione looked shocked at her Mum. "Wrong?"

"I felt something was missing, like I was forgetting something, hoping it would come to me later but I could never remember what it was."

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize."

"Of course you didn't. You're not a mother. Someday you'll understand; it's not something that happens consciously, it's more of an instinctual thing after you've given birth to think of your child throughout the day." Margot reached forward to caress her daughters' cheek, "now I know what was missing."

A tear spilled down Hermione's cheek and her voice cracked with emotion, "I'm so sorry."

"I know, sweetheart." The Grangers pulled their daughter into a hug.

Surely more questions would come, as would more tears, but for now the family was reunited. Spirits were lifted as they sat around the dining table and ate take-away.

* * *

A/N: So, if you couldn't figure it out, this was a combo of two smaller chapters. I read a lot of stories where Hermione's parents feel betrayed and heap the guilt onto her and try to compel her to leave the Magical World. Sure, it provides some great angst, but I just don't see it. I have quite a bit more with her parents to cover, so this isn't over. If you feel like there are issues left unresolved, I just might cover them in upcoming chapters so a little patience, please.

Once again I must sing the praises of HalfASlug. She graciously read through this chapter and gave me several excellent suggestions along with the usual grammar help.

I'm not sure who used "Warren" for Hermione's fathers name first, but I've seen it in several fics and, frankly, I like it so I used it.

Also, thanks to my reviewers! Your comments are always appreciated- I never expected so many people to enjoy my story as much as they apparently do.

J.K. Rowling's solicitors are threatening to wave papers in a menacing fashion in my general direction if I don't remind everyone that she (and she alone) wrote Harry Potter and that I am not receiving any financial gain for this fanfic.


	10. Mother's Intuition

**An Unconventional Fairytale: Mother's Intuition**

Margot woke to a dark house. This wasn't her room, where was she... wait; she was in Australia, Hermione was here, it was fine. _Oh Hermione, what have you done? Would they be able to reopen their practice? Was the house still there? Did they sell it before they left? What would they tell their friends?_ "Oh, we were in Australia for a year while our daughter fought in a war you knew nothing about."

She heard a noise come from the hall. Mother's instinct made her get up to go check on Hermione who was just down the hall. Margot moved to the door and noiselessly opened it. She halted at the threshold as she watched Ron enter the guest room without so much as a knock.

Curious, Margot crept down the hall and peered into the room. From here, she could hear Hermione crying. With only the moonlight, she could see Ron sitting on the edge of the bed, his arms tight around her. "Shh, it's all right. We're at your parents, in Australia, we're safe. It's all right, we're safe." Hermione clutched at Ron's tee-shirt and hair, sobbing into his chest.

Margot could hear her say something, but it was muffled. At last Hermione lifted her head to look up at Ron, her face blotchy and tear streaked. "I thought they had stopped. It's been over a month. I thought they had stopped. Why? Why now?"

Ron smoothed her hair back from her face and wiped at her tears with his thumb. "With all your stress lately, coming for your parents? It's no wonder you're having nightmares. I'd be surprised if you didn't. But it's all worked out; I told you they wouldn't hate you. You did what you had to, to keep them safe." He pulled her back to his chest, "It's all gonna be alright."

"Stay with me?"

Margot didn't hear if he replied. Just the creek of bed springs and covers moving. Then, silence. She peeked further around the open door and could see Ron on his side, spooning Hermione with his arm around her waist, the fingers of his other hand entwined with hers. They had moved into that position easily, which told Margot it wasn't the first time.

She returned to her own bed, thinking about what she overheard. _"Told you they wouldn't hate you." "What you had to do to keep them safe."_

"_I thought they had stopped."_

Suddenly, worries about dental practices, houses and social gatherings weren't so important. What evil existed that compelled her daughter to wipe her parents' memories and send them to the other side of the world for a year?

More importantly, what had happened to Hermione during that year?

*0*

Margot woke early, as was her custom. Warren on the other hand could sleep through bombs going off. She slipped on her robe and made her way downstairs. Peering into the guest room, she found it empty.

From the foot of the stairs she could hear voices in the kitchen. She silently approached and looked around the corner. Hermione stood at the stove cooking what smelled like a fry-up. Ron leaned against the counter at her side. "As long as it doesn't have mushrooms in it."

Shaking her head with an exasperated smile, "I promise Ron, there are no mushrooms."

"Sure you don't want to wait for your mum?"

"I told you, I _can_ cook. Provided I have proper ingredients and utensils."

He moved to stand right up next to her, his hand resting at her waist and his lips at her temple. "It does smell good."

Margot noted the easy manner in which Ron touched Hermione, and the way she leaned into him. It was... intimate. His hand only rested at her waist; they hadn't had sex. Yet.

Twice now Ron had beaten her to comforting Hermione. She recalled the way he looked yesterday, as if he were daring them to reject Hermione's explanation. Combined with the way he was looking at her right now, it was plain as day, he was in love. A warm smile lit her face and she let go a sigh. Hermione wasn't her little girl anymore. Margot's eyes became a bit misty; her daughter had grown into a woman and she had found someone she could spend her life with. Hermione was very lucky.

Margot dried her eyes and took a few steps back, "Is that breakfast I smell?" As she rounded the corner, Ron now stood a few steps back.

"Morning mum. I thought I would make breakfast for everyone."

She stepped up behind her daughter, squeezed her shoulders and kissed the crown of her head. "Morning sweetheart. The smell of that sausage should have made it upstairs, so your father should be down soon; the one way to rouse him short of shaking him. Morning, Ron would you help me set the table?"

"Ah, good morning. Sure."

As predicted, Warren wandered into the kitchen shortly after and they all sat around the kitchen table and enjoyed cooked breakfast.

* * *

A/N: Hello again! I know, I know another short chapter. I've already warned you this might happen again, and here it is. To make it up to everyone, the next chapter is huge. I'm not done with it, but it's a big'un. In fact, it may get split into two parts, we'll see.

As usual, HalfASlug did her Brit-speak check for me, and I sure do appreciate it.

Someday, I'm going to write an amazing story and J.K. Rowling will write fanfic for it. I promise not to sue her either.


	11. Daughters

**An Unconventional Fairytale: Daughters**

Warren Granger slipped on his shoes as he got ready for work. They didn't need to be at the office until ten this morning. _Wendell and Monica, rather_. He and his wife had talked about_ it_ some last night, and again this morning after breakfast, which had been a quiet affair. Attempting to keep the conversation light had been a challenge. They finally settled on Hermione's cooking skills, which apparently she hadn't been able to properly show off this last year, much to Ron's dismay.

_Ron_. Deep down Warren always knew this day was coming but he tried to ignore it. For so long Hermione seemed more interested in her studies than boys. Margot tried to prepare him; pointing out how often he was mentioned in Hermione's letters, that she didn't stay with his family in the summer for the magic, and finally two Christmases ago when the boy had broken her heart.

He that would have been the end of it, but no; Margot just gave him one of her infuriating smiles and said, "Not yet." Sure enough, by the end of the term they were friends again. That was the first time he saw it.

They had gone to King's Cross to pick up Hermione at the end of term. Before she had noticed him and Margot approaching; she was saying goodbye to Harry. Warren was actually thankful that she wasn't more than friends with him; poor boy had more black clouds over him. He watched as Hermione turned to Ron. They didn't hug like she had Harry. They just looked at each other. She spoke, he nodded and answered. She turned to push her trolley, but looked back and gave him a little nod. He watched her walk away.

Warren knew that look. That look told him he had a rival for Hermione's heart. He saw that look again, just last night but this time Warren knew Ron was no longer his rival; he was his replacement. Hermione would no longer turn to her father when she was sad or scared.

_Is this what his own mother felt the first time he brought Margot home?_

_But isn't this what he had raised her for? Didn't they teach her respect, decency and self-reliance so she could leave home and stand on her own? Wasn't that a parent's job?_

And it's not like he was losing her completely. Becoming a witch didn't stop her being his daughter, and this wouldn't either.

Warren stood to fix his tie in the mirror. He looked at himself and sighed deeply. So, it was Ron then. He hadn't spent too much time with the lad, but his parents were good people. He never would have let his daughter go and stay there if he believed otherwise. It was time to sit the boy down, have a little chat. Find out if he was good enough for his Hermione.

But then, was anyone?

0*0

Warren heard Margot and Hermione talking in the guest room, so he went downstairs in search of Ron. He found him in the study, brow furrowed whilst pondering the old standard typewriter Warren insisted on keeping around.

"It's called a typewriter. You feed a sheet of paper through the rollers and press the keys of the letters you want it to print for you."

"Really? Sort of like a transcribing quill." Ron shook his head in wonder. "I'm starting to understand my father's interest in Muggles."

"Yes, I remember when he asked me the purpose of Hoovers." Warren sat in one of the chairs and sized up the boy before him. _He is awfully tall, isn't he?_ Warren nodded to his chess set, "Hermione tells me you're quite the chess player."

"Well, wizard's chess, yeah, but the rules are the same. I'm pretty good."

"From what she tells me you're better than good. We'll have to play a game, maybe tonight."

Ron looked a bit nervous, "Ah, sure. Yeah." Unsure what to do with his hands, Ron fidgeted.

"I have a question for you, Ron. Have a seat before you pass out, this isn't an inquisition."

Ron let out a nervous laugh and sat in the other chair, "I was sorta expecting one."

Warren gave a small smile, "don't worry, I'll get around to it." He paused for effect and Ron gulped. "I have a different question first. Margot told me that she heard Hermione crying last night. That she had a nightmare. I'm not asking you to betray her by giving me specifics, because I know you won't, but just answer me two questions. Yesterday, she didn't tell us everything that happened, did she?"

"No."

Warren leaned forward to put his elbows on his knees. "I know what you three did was dangerous, but just how close to death did she come?"

Ron thought hard about his answer. He could feel the lump rise in his throat as echoes of her screams rang in his head, "Closer than I care to think about."

Before Warren could form an answer, Ron pressed on. "I know you've accepted her reason why she changed your memory, sent you here, but I can tell you're still unsure. I could see at breakfast, you're questioning if it was necessary to change your names, your lives, and send you here. I'm telling you, it was. The Death Eaters knew who she was, knew she's Harry Potter's best friend. They wanted to get to him, so they would try any way they could." Ron paused for a breath and looked down, almost ashamed. "My family, they're all wizards so they could protect themselves, and... and we're pure bloods, you see. Death Eaters, they've got this crazy idea that only pure bloods are worthy to have magic but there aren't too many truly pure bloods left, so they watched my family, but didn't hurt them."

Ron closed his eyes and shook his head slightly before looking up again. "But you, Hermione, well, that's different. There wasn't anything to hold them back. They would go after her to get to Harry, and they would go after you to get to her."

He looked out the doorway and back. Ron leaned forward and lowered his voice, "They did go after you. She'd probably hex me if she knew I was telling you this. We checked on the house before we came here. They had come looking, set a trap. If you had been there, they would have taken you. I really don't want to think about the things they would have done to you to get to her and then what they would have done to her to get to Harry. So, while this might be a bit inconvenient, trust me she really didn't have another choice."

Warren sat in silence and absorbed what Ron had just confided in him. He knew enough about Muggle war to imagine the horrors Ron alluded to. "I see."

He realized that his perception of this young man had changed, "You love her, don't you?"

Ron looked into Warren Grangers eyes, and with confidence, said, "Yes."

"What are your intentions towards my daughter?"

Ron hadn't specifically thought about _intentions_ but he knew what the answer was. He also knew that this was the most important question he'd ever been asked, he had to get it right. In his mind's eye he conjured up her beautiful face as it smiled at him.

"I would spend the rest of my life with her, if she'll have me. I don't know if I'm worthy of her, but then I don't know if anyone is. What I do know, is that I'll never stop trying." Ron took a deep breath before continuing, "I found out what life would be like without her, and I never want to feel that way again. I like who I am when I'm with her, she makes me better. Makes me want to be better. I want to spend the rest of my life making her happy."

Warren didn't speak straight off, nor did he look away. Ron could feel a bead of sweat form on his forehead.

"I don't know if you're worthy either. But I know my daughter, and if you're the one she wants, I'm not foolish enough to try to tell her otherwise. She'd probably, what is it? -hex me?"

A laugh released the breath Ron had been holding, "Yeah, hex. She's rather brilliant at them too."

"So I hear." Warren smiled kindly, "Look after her Ron. She's strong, intelligent and stubborn but there's a vulnerability underneath it. She cares a great deal, so she can be hurt if one knows where to aim." He looked at Ron pointedly, fully aware of their past transgressions.

"I will. I promise."

"Good. And for God's sake, make sure to get her out and have fun! That girl could hole up in a library for weeks if you let her."

"Heh, yeah. She had her own table at the Hogwarts library. I think they put her name on it."

The two men laughed, connecting over shared love of the same brilliant witch. Warren breathed a bit easier; maybe his replacement _was_ worthy after all.

0*0*0

Margot left her husband to finish getting ready for work and walked into the guest room to quite a sight. Clothes were flying out of a small handbag sitting on the bed and folding themselves into drawers and fitting onto hangers in the wardrobe. Hermione was sifting through a small pouch of what looked like toiletries when she looked up.

"Oh, sorry Mum." With a swish of her wand the clothes stopped.

"Don't stop on my account. I was enjoying the show." She looked at the elegant twist of wood on the dresser. "Did you get a new wand?"

"Yes."

"Something wrong with your old one?"

Hermione hesitated, "No, it's just... it was taken, when we were caught. I had to get a new one."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart; I remember how proud you were when got it. Does this one work as well for you?"

"Oh, yes. It's excellent; we connected straight off."

Margot arched her eyebrow, "You make it sound like the wand is a living thing."

"Well, in a way they are. The magical elements within them give them something akin to consciousness. A year ago I would have said that was rubbish but I've had my eyes opened to a few things this last year."

Margot brushed Hermione's hair from her shoulder, "Guess it goes to show we never stop learning. For instance, I had no idea you could use magic to fold and hang clothes then put them away, and from a bag that looks like it couldn't hold a toothbrush. Will it do the wash for you too?"

Hermione chortled, "In a way. You have to put the clothes in the wash basin, then charm the wash board and brush to do the cleaning but you have to be careful as not to overdo it, or the clothes will be washed down to threads."

"Fascinating. I would love to see it sometime. Actually, just being able to finally watch my daughter perform magic routinely would be a treat." She took a seat on the bed, hoping to witness more of her daughter's magic.

Hermione didn't turn to face her mother, "I thought it would make you uncomfortable."

"Oh, goodness no. I'm sorry if we ever gave you that impression, sweetheart. Of course, much of it is a mystery and we don't understand how it's done, but that doesn't mean we're afraid of it. It would be awfully silly of us to let our daughter go off to school to be a witch and then tell her she can't perform magic at home. And based on your grades and the letters from Professor McGonagall we've received over the years, you're quite accomplished."

Hermione still hadn't looked up to meet her mother's eye. "So, you and Dad, you're alright with all this? It's just… I realized during this last year how little time I've spent with you since going to Hogwarts. You're not… upset?"

Margot rose so she could lift her daughter's chin. "Hermione, your Father and I have only ever wanted one thing for you -to be happy. Yes, we taught you manners and the value of education, and to be respectful, but all of it was towards the goal of you being happy."

She affectionately stroked Hermione's hair, "For so long you struggled. You didn't fit in with children your age, mostly because you behaved more maturely then they did, so you spent even more time with us, which made you behave even more maturely, which distanced you from your peers even more. Then there were all those _odd things_ that would happen around you.

"Honestly, when we found out you were a witch, it was definitely shocking, but it was also something of a relief. It explained many things but, we also saw it as an opportunity. It could be a fresh start for you, new children, new things to learn."

She smiled warmly, "Going to Hogwarts has given you things that we couldn't. I still have the letter you sent in your first year telling us about your new friends, Harry and Ron. Your father was a bit worried about you having boys for friends, but I understood. You were never a girly girl. I used to laugh when your letters would complain about how they would drag you from your studies to go outside, or do other things. They were good for you."

"Hogwarts gave you friends. You also found yourself there, found your purpose. I can see it now," Her arm pointed out, framing an imaginary scene. "My daughter all dressed in proper business robes, standing before a panel of old stodgy wizards and witches, giving a rousing speech on the virtues of house elf rights."

Margot put her arm around Hermione's shoulders. "Being a witch, it's who you are. It makes you happy. We came to terms with this a long time ago Hermione. We knew as time passed you'd want to spend more and more time in that world. It's where you belong. It would be terribly selfish of us to keep you from it. Besides, it's where your heart is."

Hermione rolled her eyes a bit, turning her head down and blushed.

"So, how long now?"

"Not very; a couple of weeks."

"Oh? So all that time alone?"

Hermione shook her head and shrugged, "Not really. Harry; he means well, and is a wonderful friend, but he can be really oblivious sometimes. And no, nothing happened. It wasn't really conducive to romance."

"Fair enough." She stroked her daughter's cheek, "But, at last, your fairytale finally came true."

Hermione furrowed her brow, "Pardon?"

"Your fairytale. You used to believe in them. The beautiful princess isolated from the world. Then something fantastic, magical, would happen to her and she'd be swept away. Along the way she would meet her prince, and be rescued from her isolation and they would live happily ever after."

She still looked skeptical.

"Not that you're the damsel in distress type. More of the self-rescuing princess. And Ron may not be your _conventional_ Prince Charming, but he is yours."

Her cheeks became warm. "Yes, that he is."

"I'm so happy for you, sweetheart. I told you he'd come around."

Hermione smiled with a sigh, "Yes, you did. It wasn't easy. He tried his hardest to foul it up."

Margot squeezed her shoulders. "Ah, typical teenage boy. But tell me, was he worth waiting for?"

"Yes."

"Then that's all that matters." Margot turned serious. "I assume you're familiar with the various forms of Muggle contraception, and I presume any magical ones? Are there magical ones?"

Hermione's eyes shot open and her cheeks brightened to scarlet. "Mum!" Her eyes darted around for a moment before looking down and away. "Yes. And yes. There's a charm and a potion."

"Are they used together?"

Her voice reduced in volume even further. "No. The charm only lasts about an hour, and you have to get it right. The potion is fairly straight forward to make, but it must be taken daily; similar to the pill."

Margot only felt a little guilty over her daughter's discomfort. "Ah. Have you made this potion?"

Hermione was officially mortified. "Mum… not… yet."

"Well, if you need to get anything or use the kitchen..."

She looked at her mother incredulously, "Are you actually... _encouraging_ me to have… sex… with my boyfriend?"

Margot smiled knowingly, "Sweetheart, if this was some boy you had just met, then this would be a_ very_ different conversation. But it's Ron, the boy you've fancied since you were thirteen. The boy you've been falling for since fifteen. The young man you're in love with."

She smoothed the hair back behind her daughter's ears. "I see the way he looks at you. He loves you. Real, adult love; not just teenage infatuation. With all you've been through together, you've had to grow up too quickly. He loves you, for who you are. Just as you are. He respects you. He makes you happy. A parent couldn't wish for better. Sweetheart, after seven years, no one can accuse you of rushing things."

Hermione looked up to her mother with glassy eyes. "I love him, Mum, so much."

Margot embraced her tightly. "I know. He's your Prince Charming." She leaned back to look into Hermione's face. "So, have you two had a chance to go on an actual date?"

"Well, there was this picnic we took but that's all we've had time for."

"Well, while your here, you should go on a proper date. Maybe dinner and the pictures. Oh, I know, there's this family amusement centre: games, bowling, that sort of thing. It's indoors, so the weather's not a problem. You should go, show him the Muggle games, share an ice cream, snog in a dark corner…"

"Mum."

"Go! Have fun! Be typical teenagers for a change."

Hermione knew when she had been outmaneuvered. "Ron probably _would_ enjoy the games."

"We can drop you off on the way to the office, no sense you two just sitting around the house all day." Margot got up and moved to the doorway. "I think I have some cash in my purse."

Hermione followed her mother into the hallway. "Do they serve food there?"

"I'm almost certain, but there are plenty of places nearby in case they don't."

"Good. I swear, some days all Ron thinks about is food."

Margot raised an eyebrow to Hermione's retreating back, recalling the looks Ron had been giving her earlier. "Something tells me there's more on Ron's mind than lunch."

* * *

A/N:

I have broken the 3000 word count, making this the Biggest Chapter Yet! I thought about splitting it in two, but the two bits really belong together. Oddly, this may also be my longest author's note.

And now, Credit where it is due:

HalfASlug, the usual. Have you read "The Longest Start" yet? You should.

The part about Ron saying that he isn't sure if he's worthy of Hermione; I'm almost certain I've read something like this before, but cannot remember where. If _you_ know the name of the story this comes from, let me know so I can credit them.

The part about Hermione's Fairytale; I read a story here at Fan Fiction about Hermione comparing herself to fairytales and other stories (including Eliza Bennett from Pride & Prejudice), but after much searching I cannot find it again. Same holds true for this as the last: if you know it, please let me know.

I return your attention to Drappleluv's adorable comic found here: (drappleluv. Tumblr .c_ /post /22776780327 /love-is-like-a-fairytale) Take out spaces, and complete the url after "Tumblr" correctly. This comic and the story whose-name-I-cannot-remember inspired the title of this fic and the corresponding part of this chapter.

The Title of this chapter is inspired by John Mayer's song of the same name. Several lines of that song make me think of this part of the story, thus the title. And Ron has kindly informed me that he is looking forward to the chapter in which I am inspired by "Your Body is a Wonderland."

My Reviewers. I have 84 reviews as of this posting and they are all positive. And while I am amazed and flattered, somehow I don't feel like you've "made it" until you've been flamed. Maybe I'll change my tune once I've been flamed, but it still feels like an initiation thing.

Finally, the ubiquitous disclaimer:

If J.K. Rowling didn't take issue with fifty Mary Poppins's defeating Lord Voldemort, then I doubt she'll take issue with_ my_ ramblings.

P.S.

Happy Birthday, Joe and Harry. May your Magic live on, always.


	12. Promises

**An Unconventional Fairytale: Promises**

Hermione figured she probably had a similar expression on her face the first time she went to Diagon Alley. Ron's eyes were wide and his mouth was slightly ajar. The family amusement centre, "Fun4All", was a sea of blinking lights and a cacophony of sounds.

Children were still at school at this hour, so it wasn't too busy. Ron was trying his best not to look too obvious and point at the video games. Hermione decided that he might do well at rolling balls to knock things over. "Let's try bowling."

"Are we collecting soup?"

Her eyes rolled and she laughed. "No. We use a heavy ball to knock down pins. You know, 'bowl over.' Just follow me."

They checked out shoes and Hermione selected a couple balls for them to use. She chose a lane furthest from the busy aisle.

"Just watch me. You put your fingers here; hold the ball upright, like this. This is the tricky bit, you want to bring the ball back, don't let go, then step forward releasing so the ball rolls, but don't throw it down the lane."

Hermione executed a spare; not too bad since she was trying to go slow for Ron to watch. She turned back to him to see if he had any questions.

"Any ques- Ron? Were you watching me?"

His eyes shot up to meet hers. "Ah, yeah. Could you do that again? I didn't quite get it."

She narrowed her eyes at him, "All right. But watch _my hands_ carefully."

She went through the motions again and picked up her spare. This time when she looked back he was looking at her face. "Do you think you've got it this time?"

"Yeah. Sure."

He gripped the ball correctly, managed to swing back without letting go too early and release the ball without throwing it half down the lane. It promptly went into the gutter, but at least it was going the right direction.

"That wasn't good, was it?"

"Actually, you're technique was fine; we just need to refine it a bit." As she moved to help him, Ron saw the ball return to the rack and went to investigate.

"How did it come back?" He nearly stuck his head down the chute before Hermione stopped him.

"Don't put your head there, you could get stuck. There's a track the ball falls into and is rolled back to here."

"Amazing. Muggles really are clever."

"Yes, it's a miracle they ever managed to move out of caves. Now, let me help you."

She moved over to position his body. "Stand more over here, turn a bit, there. Now do the same thing with the ball."

He swung, released and this time the ball travelled down the lane and hit several pins, resulting in a split. His face lit up like Christmas morning. "I did it!"

She couldn't help the little surge of pride she felt for him. "Yes, you did. On your second try no less." She walked up to take her turn and turned to him on tiptoe. "I had complete confidence in you." She lightly kissed him on the lips and moved into position for her turn.

Another spare, but she was several years out of practice. When she turned around she found him staring at her bottom again. She felt a different surge this time, a little lower in her gut, and her checks warmed.

When he was up, Hermione realized this really _was_ a good sport for 'bottom' watching.

0*0

By the time ten frames were over, Hermione concluded that, while Ron was very good at catching spherical objects, he wasn't as good at throwing them. A least he didn't throw the ball too high and damage the lane. She didn't want to have to confound anyone.

Either way, they had had fun. As they exchanged places for each turn, they would pass ever closer to one another. Touching, caressing, making eyes at each other as they went… By the tenth frame, she was sliding her hands over his chest and arms and he was grabbing her bum. For her one and only strike, he lifted her off the ground and twirled around before kissing her as he set her down.

By lunch, she was very aroused.

Excusing herself to the loo, Hermione splashed some water on her face and tried to will her gut to uncoil. They were in public; this wouldn't do. A few deep breaths and she met him outside the hamburger restuarant.

They found a quiet booth in the back and he slid in next to her. A server dropped off some menus and they scanned them over. Hermione settled on a simple salad since her stomach insisted on performing gymnastics; Ron's proximity was _not_ helping. Ron, being Ron, ordered a bacon sandwich with a side of chips and a strawberry milkshake.

They talked about their game, when Hermione had learned to bowl initially and how video games worked. She had a hard time of it though since she wasn't entirely sure herself how video games were programmed, much less how to explain computers in a concise fashion (since she knew a proper, drawn out explanation would yield a similar result to a History of Magic lecture). Capping it off, her mind kept wandering back to her conversation with her mum that morning and whether there was a wizard apothecary nearby she could get ingredients from.

As their plates were being cleared, Ron's eye was caught by a large piece of chocolate cake being brought to a table across the diner. "Did you see that huge piece of cake?"

Hermione gave him a wry smile. "Yes. I suppose you want one?"

Ron's eyebrows lifted and his lips pouted just a bit. She had a really hard time saying no to his "wounded puppy" look but she certainly wasn't going to admit it to him.

"All right, but we'll share it. I only want a little bit."

Soon their piece of cake arrived with two forks and Ron quickly delved into it. His arm ended up across the seatback of the booth so it would be easier to share. _He smells good today._ Hermione had a front row seat to watch Ron eat the cake. Bite after bite, pulling the fork out between his lips, licking the buttercream off the tines. Her head was fogging up and her legs crossed so they could squeeze together.

"Last bite."

She blinked to refocus. "Huh?"

He nodded down to the table, "Last bite. It's yours if you want it."

She looked down at the last piece, which seemed to be mostly buttercream. Her head still fuzzy with arousal, Hermione scooped up the last bit onto her fork, and brought it to her mouth. Her aim being a little off, some buttercream stuck to her upper lip. Before she had a chance to swallow, Ron was sucking her lip into his mouth. Their lips sealed while tongues and cake swirled around. He drew back, sucking the chocolate off her tongue.

"That's really good chocolate cake."

"Um. Yeah." Hermione had a hard time refocusing her eyes, much less taking a full breath. "We should go."

"Back to the house?"

"Yes."

Ron didn't have to be told twice. He was pulling her out of the booth as she was leaving money on the table. They hastily pulled on coats to go outside. Safely behind the rubbish bins, Hermione apparated them back to her parents' house.

0*0

They were barely in the back door when his arms were around her waist, picking her up to lock his lips securely to hers. Her legs wrapped around his hips and he carried her to the sofa. Ron managed to get them there, only knocking into an end table once. He laid her down and carefully settled over her. There were too many clothes for her taste. Hermione started pushing and pulling at their coats, separating her lips from his only when necessary. Her fingers entwined in his shoulder length hair, holding him in place. Echoes of her mother saying 'no shoes on the sofa' had Hermione toing off her shoes and rewrapping her legs around him, one at his waist and the other over his legs.

His hands couldn't seem to find one place to settle. They were in her hair, cupping her cheeks, running down her torso to her waist. One of them found a breast and that seemed to satisfy it. He carefully caressed and squeezed until she moaned. The sound caused him to break away from her lips and look down at her.

Her chest was heaving, breaths coming fast. Ron's eyes didn't even look blue they had dilated so much. She could feel his arousal pressing between her legs and it fuelled her own. She wanted more. Hermione grabbed the hem of his shirt and started to tug it up. He sat up on his knees to help her get it off. She felt his fingers play at the hem of her shirt and heart pounding in her chest, she lifted her arms. As the shirt was lifting over her head, she suddenly remembered.

With a gasp, she covered her bra clad chest with her arms and tried to turn away.

"What? I'm sorry, I thought…"

"No. It's not you. I just... I didn't think…" Her blush went from chest to hairline and her eyes were pinched closed.

"Hermione? What is it? This was ok the other night. What did I do?"

"Nothing. You didn't do anything Ron. I… I forgot to put on concealer."

"On your neck? No you didn't."

"Not my neck. My chest."

"Why would you…" Then it dawned on him, "Department of Mysteries."

"Yes. When Dolohov cursed me."

After several heartbeats of silence, she felt the backs of his fingers gently caress her cheek.

"Hermione? Look at me."

With reluctance she opened her eyes. His fingers hadn't left her face yet; they kept on caressing her.

"I'll give you that a curse scar probably isn't pretty but it doesn't make _you_ ugly." The look in his eyes was so intense; she found her breath catching in her throat. "That one, the one on your neck, they just show how brave you are. How strong you are. You're still beautiful." His eyes looked away, bashful. "To me."

"I get why you don't want other people to see them." He turned his free arm to highlight his own scars. "People just look at you with pity or whatever." His fingers left her face and touched the hand and arm that were covering her chest.

"Don't hide from me. Please."

Hermione looked into his blue eyes, so full of sincerity and love. She had been right all along; there was a Prince Charming inside him. Her arms dropped to her sides and he smiled at her. When he didn't look down straight away a nervous smile broke across her face. At last he did look, and let out a deep sigh. With surprisingly little hesitation, he reached around behind her and fumbled with her bra clasp.

"Let me…"

"No. I've got it. Just… relax a moment. I'm perfectly capable of undressing my girlfriend."

She had to close her eyes to keep them from rolling, but the exasperated huff couldn't be stopped.

"There. Fuck."

Her eyes were still closed, afraid to see his expression. "I told you it was hideous."

"Actually, you said nothing of the sort. You just threw up your arms and tried to hide. And that's not why I was swearing."

"Then why did you swear?"

Her eyes shot open and she gasped as his lips touched the spot above her right breast. The scar was a single point of black with purple spider-web like tendrils radiating out from it making it about four inches across. The nerve endings there never healed correctly, so his kiss felt oddly disjointed. His hands grasped her waist and his mouth began a slow journey across her chest. She could feel his tongue lick the beads of sweat from her skin as his lips found their way to her other breast. There was a popping sound as he stopped and lifted his head to look up at her.

"Because I realized I could do that."

It took her a moment to remember what the original question was. "Oh."

Ron gave her a cheeky smile and kissed her lips again. He gently nudged her back until she was lying against the arm of the sofa again. "I skipped ahead a bit."

"What?"

Ron answered by placing a wet kiss along her breast bone. His hands each cupped a breast and carefully squeezed. Hermione's back arched and she sighed. Her insides were twisting and coiling like never before; it was better than she had imagined.

His lips found one nipple while a thumb found the other and Hermione let out a cry that was something between a gasp and his name. Ron's motions were slow and it only drove her higher. Her fingers gripped his hair and her legs tightened around his waist, trying to pull him closer. He might have chuckled, but Ron remained where he was. His hands and mouth alternated places and Hermione realized the sound filling her ears were her own moans.

Ron's hands each claimed a breast, his thumbs pushing her nipples into the first finger. His lips fastened onto her collar bone where he knew she liked it. The coil in her gut didn't release. She didn't sigh in satisfaction. Hermione cried out his name as the orgasm exploded in her body.

Hermione opened her eyes to see Ron sitting back against the other arm of the sofa, a look of smug satisfaction on his face.

"Welcome back."

Her brow slightly furrowed, "How long-"

"Just a moment or two. But you were definitely someplace else."

Her heart was still beating quickly. "Oh."

"You're welcome."

Her eyes slowly widened as his arrogant statement finally got through. "You prat."

"What? You didn't like it?"

"I didn't say that. But you don't have to be all smug about it."

"Why not? That's four times now I've made the prim and proper Hermione Granger come."

She was topless and sexually satisfied, but she still turned away from his gaze, blushing.

"And I don't mean for it to be the last."

Her eyes snapped back to his, now so much closer as he had leaned forward. "No?"

"I've still got a lot of book to get through."

"Oh yes, wouldn't want all that reading to be for naught."

He sat back on his haunches. "Yeah. I'm not one of those mental people who read for _fun_."

"Keep this up and your reading _will_ be for naught."

His face lit with amusement, "Somehow I doubt that."

"Oh? You don't think I wouldn't cut you off?"

He leaned forward again, his lips a breath away from hers. "You wouldn't. You want it too badly."

"You're insufferable."

"I know. That's why you love me."

She pushed her lips against his and slipped her hands over his chest to his shoulders. "Thank you."

Ron stopped kissing her but didn't lean back, "For?"

"Coming with me. Being here when I needed you so badly. You've been wonderful."

He looked deep into her eyes and turned serious. "I made a promise to you. I promised never to leave you again; to be there when you needed me. They weren't just words. As much as I regret leaving Harry, I regret leaving you. I thought I would have to pay for that the rest of my life but, you forgave me. I can't promise I won't say something stupid or act like a prat sometimes but I'll never leave you. I want to spend the rest of my life loving you."

Over the course of several heartbeats her eyes turned glassy. "Why do you do that?"

His face fell at her teary expression. "Do what?"

"One moment you're an insufferable prat, and the next you say the most beautiful things." She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him with fervor. He pulled her so he could sit back on the arm of the sofa and she could rest on his chest.

"Don't know. It's a gift," he said after she had finally released his lips.

She laughed through her joyful tears and settled against his chest. Her fingertips lightly trailed along his splinching scar.

He tucked her hair back behind her ear. "You should tell them, your parents, about your scar. You heard Mum when she saw mine, thought I was hiding it from her."

"I know. I will. I didn't want to overwhelm them."

His hands stroked over her bare back and it soothed her. She really couldn't think of a better place to be. "I want to spend my life loving you too."

They lay together on the sofa for a while longer. Eventually, they reluctantly moved in order to clean up for when her parents returned home for dinner.

* * *

A/N: Once again Ron and Hermione hijacked what was going to be a short chapter. They can really get chatty, can't they? And in the middle of making out (is there a brit-speak term for 'making out'? 'Cause it's more than snogging).

As was pointed out to me, Ron is up 4-0. Hermione, never one to be outdone, is taking action to even that score come next chapter. She and I have already discussed it. Speaking of... I have two drabbles that are begging to be written, so I'm not sure if that will delay the next chapter or not. Just a heads up.

If you enjoyed this chapter (and the last several as well), you can send your thanks to HalfASlug. More than just a brit-speak check, she has helped me punch up these chapters and has unapologetically (is that a word?) pointed out the sucky bits. Also, if you hear of an American woman bludgeoned to death with punctuation, that would be me. You've seen the first several chapters, you know I had it coming.

Lastly, a moment of silence for those authors who have found it necessary to leave this site to find a place free of smut persecution. Where you go, we shall follow.

The only compensation I receive for this story are reviews. If J.K. Rowling wants a percentage, she can send over her solicitor.


	13. Hermione's Secret

**An Unconventional Fairytale: Hermione's Secret**

They were nearly ready to go. The Australian Ministry had helped arrange details to get Wendell and Monica back to England. Charms had been placed around the dental surgery and the house. Anyone that passed through would subtly remember that the Wilkins' were in Australia for a year sabbatical, so their sudden departure wasn't surprising at all and over the next several months the fact that they even knew the Wilkins would slowly vanish.

Ron and Hermione had spent the last several days helping her parents pack, such that by evening they were too tired to do much more than a little snogging, much to Ron's displeasure. He did discover that Hermione's father wasn't a sore loser as Ron had beaten him each time they played chess, though Warren did prove to be a more worthy an opponent than Harry ever was. He also suspected that Margot knew he was sleeping with Hermione in the guest room but she hadn't said anything so Ron wasn't inclined to stop.

Perhaps the best thing he learned over the last week was that Hermione could actually cook. Sure, it was the Muggle way, but that didn't stop the food tasting good. This skill was especially useful tonight since she would be cooking the entire meal for both of them. Fact was that Ron didn't expect Hermione to know how to cook because she was a girl, but rather because she knew everything. And while he was very good that chopping up vegetables, he never learned how to actually cook them.

This evening, Margot and Warren were going to dinner with another couple they had become close with over the last year. They wanted one more night out with their friends before Wendell and Monica slipped out of their consciousness entirely.

At last, a night alone with Hermione. Ron had plans that didn't involve shirts. He had been able to sneak in a little more reading here and there and was looking forward to trying it out. Ron had skipped over the better part of "respecting her emotions" to get to the good stuff at the end, but he would go back and read the whole thing at some point. Honest.

The kitchen smelled of cottage pie, which made Ron's stomach rumble. "Can I do anything to help?"

Hermione turned and smiled brightly at him, "You could set the table."

He set the kitchen table for two, across from one another so he could watch her easier. That, and she'd taken to playing footsie with him at meals and that was best done across from one another. A few minutes later and a steaming crock of meat and vegetables sat on the table along with some crusty bread. Ron tucked in immediately.

"This is excellent."

"Always the tone of surprise."

"Well, come on, you have to admit the last year didn't highlight your apparent talents. Or we're you just holding out 'cause you thought Harry and I thought it was your place or some nonsense? You realize we looked to you because we're helpless and you know everything? Right?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and smiled at him. "Yes." She turned wistful and looked away. "With all my careful preparations the one thing I managed to forget completely was food."

"Well, just shows you can't always do everything yourself."

"No.

Again Hermione agreed with him. She was _off_ tonight. "What's wrong?"

"Pardon?"

"Hermione, I can tell something's bothering you. You haven't argued with me once and you haven't tried to play footsie at all. What's wrong?"

She quirked her mouth, "When did you become so observant?"

"What do you mean? I've always been. I figured out there was something fishy in our third year; never occurred to me they'd give you a Time Turner. I always knew when you we're working too hard and needed a break. And, believe it or not, I did notice you were a girl; just wasn't ready to admit it."

"Yet you totally missed that I fancied you."

Ron's face turned serious, "I never thought I would be the kind of person you'd fancy. I don't like school. Don't like to read. Not smart..."

"Don't say that."

"What?"

Hermione looked sternly at him. "Don't say you're not smart. It's not true. You're very smart, and very capable. Maybe not in History of Magic or Arithmancy but, in other things, when you set your mind to it."

"Only because you got me through."

"I helped. But you took those O.W.L.'s yourself. I didn't get those grades for you."

Ron sat back and gave her a smug look. "You are clever, aren't you?"

"What?"

"Managed to get me off topic. Hoping I'd forget about what's bothering you?"

Hermione gave a deep sigh. "Like I said, you're very smart."

Ron reached across table to take her hand. "What is it? Worried about getting your parents home?"

She shook her head. "No, that all seems to be in order. It's _after_ we get home."

"What about it?"

Her bottom lip was pulled between her teeth and she gave him a guilty look. "I've been thinking. I'm going to stay with my parents."

He tipped his head in confusion.

"I'm not saying we won't see each other. I'll still come to the Burrow all the time. They'll be working during the day anyway. It's just... at night."

"Oh." Ron looked put out. "But what about your nightmares?"

"That's exactly why. I can't let her control me anymore. She's dead and yet she's still hurting me." Hermione squeezed his hand. "It's not that I don't like sleeping with you, far from it. It's wonderful." She blushed and shrugged. "But when I'm with you, I feel so safe; you chase the nightmares away. I need to fight this. I need to beat her, and I can't do it when you're with me. Tell me you understand?"

Ron looked into her pleading eyes. "I do. I don't like it. I've got rather used to holding you at night." He smiled at her. "But I understand. I want you to beat her too."

"Thank you."

While they finished dinner, Hermione made good and slipped her foot up and down his calf while his stroked the top of her other. When they had finished eating, they cleared the table and retired to living room to sit on the sofa by the fire. There was a time when Ron's post-dinner thoughts would have turned to the packet of biscuits in the cupboard, but lately his cravings had lay elsewhere. It took nearly no prompting for Hermione to end up in his lap, lips locked with his. Her hands were slipping through his hair while his were already working their way under her top. _Fuck_, she felt good.

Hermione had this gleam in her eye before sitting up to straddle Ron's legs. She tugged at his shirt and he quickly complied by sitting forward so she could remove it. This was definitely going to plan. Wasting no time he started unbuttoning her top. Hermione watched him through hooded eyes as he deftly worked his way down. Without removing it, Ron leaned forward so he could place a kiss between her tits. _Breasts, he was supposed to say breasts, right? Fuck it. Merlin, he loved her tits_. And there was still too much fabric covering them.

"Fuck! Me!"

Hermione's hand pressed between his legs and started to rub. "You're not the only one with a book."

Ron was too stunned to move. She gave him a saucy smile, and worked the fly of his trousers open. His breath was so short and fast he feared he'd pass out. But Ron refused to pass out, lest he miss Hermione reaching her hand down his pants. It wasn't quite down his pants, but she did manage to slip her tiny hand into his trousers to cup the bulge that was rapidly growing there.

Looking down at her, he nearly laughed at her serious expression; tip of tongue poking out between her teeth, brow knitted in concentration. Her eyes widened and mouth formed an 'O' when she finally got a grip on his cock. He _would_ have laughed, except he had no air in his lungs.

Her dainty fingers squeezed and he was finally forced to take a breath.

"Is this all right?"

"What?" He gasped between breaths. "Yes. It's fucking brilliant."

Her hand slowly started pumping and his head dropped back, releasing a strangled moan. Ron looked down when he felt her hand disappear. Her lower lip sucked between her teeth in concentration, Hermione was pulling back the waistband of his pants. He had no idea what was running through that brilliant mind of hers, but he was in no position to ask. Apparently deterred by the narrow entry point, Hermione got up and started pulling on Ron's trousers, "These are in the way." He lifted his bottom and she managed to pull his trousers to his knees.

Hermione straddled him again and went back to where she left off. _Oh fuck_. Ron held his breath_. Oh fuck._

"Oh my."

She had pulled his pants down and freed his cock. Despite having felt him, she seemed stunned. "Problem?" He managed to gasp.

"No. It's just that... are all men that big?"

"Wouldn't really know."

"No, I suppose you wouldn't."

Before he could ask another question, she wrapped her fingers around him. The feel of her soft fingers on his cock was nearly too much. Too many wanking fantasies involving just such a thing pushed him to the edge. As her fingers stroked up and down his length, he could feel his heart pound and breath catch. When her fingertip touched the tip, it was over.

"Fuck!"

He heard her gasp and felt her hand cover him. Ron couldn't move. His heart pounded too fast and he couldn't catch his breath. _Fuck._ Hermione just got him off. He heard her mutter something and the sticky mess disappeared. It was several moments before he lifted his head to look at her.

"What was that look?"

"Look?"

"That look on your face, right after you said you had your own book."

"I had a look?"

"Yeah."

"What kind of look?"

"I dunno. It was... well, it was kinda like the look you get when you're gonna break the rules, on purpose. But, something else."

She looked baffled. "This is the part you've decided to focus on?"

Ron's heart rate was finally returning to normal and his breathing slowing down. "Well, it's not like you. It was unexpected."

"And putting my hands down your pants wasn't?"

"No. I mean, we were heading in this direction, weren't we? Sure, I was surprised you did it tonight, but I kinda figured it would happen eventually. And, just so we're clear, that was fucking brilliant and you feel free to do that again any time you want."

She laughed, sweetly. "I'm not sure if it was the erratic breathing or the excessive-even-for-you swearing but I got that impression."

"Good." Ron took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I didn't go very long, but fuck, your hands feel amazing. Any idea how long I've wanted you to do that?"

"Don't know; maybe as long as I've wanted _you_ to touch _me_?"

"You've wanted me to touch you for that long?"

Hermione leaned in close to brush her lips against his. "Yes."

His hands squeezed her bum and he kissed her.

"Ummm."

Ron's hand slipped her shirt off one shoulder to place a kiss there. "Fuck, you feel good."

"Language."

As he kissed her neck, a realization dawned on him. He pulled back to look at her: eyes closed, hair wild, shirt half off. "Heh."

Through hooded eyes she looked at him, "What?"

"I just figured it out."

"What out?"

"That look."

"Back on that again?"

"Yes. I'll be... you… you are a naughty witch."

She didn't move for a moment and then finally shook her head in haughty denial. "I don't know what you mean."

"Oh, don't you? I've realized that every time we've been getting it on, you haven't told me to watch my language, 'cept just now but then I wasn't trying to make you come either."

Hermione blushed and turned her face away.

He didn't let up. "And that day, our picnic under the tree, you were all ready for- what was it? _Unmentionables_. And today, that look. You weren't just 'returning the 'favour'; you've been looking forward to getting into my pants, haven't you?"

She turned an even brighter shade of scarlet.

The smirk was now firmly planted on Ron's face. "Our prim and proper Hermione Granger's been keeping a secret. She's a naughty witch."

With a quiet voice she asked, "You're not going to tell everyone?"

"Tell everyone?! Bloody hell woman, who would I tell? Who would believe me?" He gently lifted her chin. "'Sides, I don't wanna tell. This bit is all for me."

Hermione looked up at him, the unspoken question on her lips.

"I've had to share the rest of you, haven't I? Your brains, your kindness… your lips." He smiled kindly at her look of sorrow. "But this, this part is mine. And I don't mean to share." To make his point, he leaned down to place a kiss on her chest, over her curse scar.

"No, let them keep on believing you're all proper and innocent. I'll know the truth." Ron brought his lips to her ear. "Tell me, does it turn you on when I swear?"

Ron couldn't see her face, but he heard her suck in her breath.

"Do you like it when I tell you how fucking amazing your tits are?"

Hermione moaned and push her chest against him. His hands released the clasp and slid over her skin to drop her shirt and bra to their lap.

"Because they are." His mouth descended again to suckle a nipple.

"Oh. Ron." Her hands gripped his hair, holding him to her chest.

A trail of sucking wet kisses led him to its twin. "So fucking good." It wasn't much longer before Ron felt Hermione shudder in his arms, a long sigh escaping her lips.

She opened her eyes to his mischievously twinkling ones. "Told you. Naughty."

"Prat."

"You love it."

"I'll deny it."

"Don't care. So long as I get naughty Hermione you can tell people whatever you want."

Her eyes narrowed but she released a resigned sigh. The mantle clock chimed, signaling that Hermione's parents would be home soon. She picked up a wand to clean up the second sticky mess from between their bodies and they made themselves presentable. Snuggled together on the sofa, Ron and Hermione shared a packet of biscuits as desert.

It wasn't long before Warren and Margot came in the door. "Did you two have a nice evening?"

Ron lifted his eyebrows in question to Hermione, who was doing an excellent job of not looking at her parents. "Yes Mum, it was very nice," she replied before returning to nibble on her biscuit.

* * *

A/N: Sorry about lack of update last week! Those two drabbles did throw me off, and then real life crept in and pushed things off further. But I have returned, and with lemons to boot.

Much thanks to HalfASlug for her continued support. Also, to all my readers out there- thanks for sticking with me!

J.K. Rowling secretly likes fanfic because we get to make the characters do and say all the things her editors wouldn't let her write.


	14. Midnight Caller

**An Unconventional Fairytale: Midnight Caller**

A swish of her wand set the kettle boiling. Hermione poured a cup of tea with a smidge of sugar and a splash of milk. She sat down at the kitchen table and Crookshanks quickly jumped into her lap. A sip of tea and a scratch behind his ears, Hermione looked out into the night. Again.

She had returned with her parents and Ron from Australia four days ago. The trip went rather smoothly, in particular since she slipped Ron a calming draught that morning- not so much that he wouldn't enjoy flying in an airplane but, not too little such that he would draw attention with his gawking. Once back in their home, Hermione had spent the last several days helping her parents settle back into their lives.

With the help of the Ministry, they were slowly bringing Warren and Margot Granger back to England. The year-long sabbatical idea from Australia would serve them well here too. It also meant they could talk about their last year abroad with friends and family.

Hermione had gone to the Burrow to collect her belongings, but had not returned since. She told Ron it would probably be a few days before she did while her parents settled back in. He did visit just today to make sure everything was well. While her parents were out on errands, they snogged on the sofa, but she didn't dare go any further despite the yearning in her belly.

Ron returned home after dinner, with promises they'd see each other soon. And as she had the last two nights, Hermione laid in bed until exhaustion took her. And as she had the last two nights, she was awoken by visions of Bellatrix Lestrange screeching, "Crucio!"

That said, she wasn't waking up screaming or even crying hysterically. In fact, it was Crookshanks who would wake her with a well-placed paw to the face. Hermione figured she must be whimpering or giving some other indication that she needed to be awoken. And while he wasn't Ron with his warm, safe arms, Crookshanks was doing an excellent job of keeping vigil over her at night. She knew there was a reason she had a thing for gingers.

She had trouble returning to sleep once awake, so Hermione would come to the kitchen and have a cup of tea. It was a universally acknowledged truth that tea could cure any ailment. Hermione loathed to admitting it, but as she sat awake once again, it seemed that tea had failed her.

There was a shuffling of feet from the hall and Margot appeared in her dressing gown. "Hermione, I didn't realize you were up."

"Oh. Yeah." She shrugged her shoulders. "Trouble sleeping?"

"You know me, when my brain gets going there's no stopping it sometimes. I find chamomile helps. Any hot water left?"

Hermione checked the kettle and gave it a tap with her wand. "It's hot now."

"Handy, magic." Margot retrieved some tea from the cupboard and sat next to her daughter.

"Mind some company?"

"Not at all."

They sat for a bit in quiet companionship, sipping their tea.

"It's interesting. The things we get used to, and how quickly."

Hermione tilted her head in question. "What do you mean?"

"I still have trouble sleeping when your father isn't there."

Hermione didn't respond, and quietly held her breath.

"You miss him."

Her lips parted to phrase a denial, but Margot didn't give her the chance.

"I know." Margot smiled warmly and took her daughters hand in hers. "Something woke me your first night in Australia. I got up to investigate and saw him enter your room. Naturally, I got closer so I could eavesdrop. You had had a nightmare, and he got to you first. You asked him to stay."

Hermione's cheeks warmed. "You never said anything."

"No. It was clearly something you needed. It does make me wonder why you're still here."

She turned her hand to clasp her mother's. "I'm here to help you settle back in, and to just spend time with you."

"And its wonderful having you, so don't misunderstand me. But you can apparate now, so there's no reason you can't go back and forth. Why do you stay? Do his parents have issue with it?"

Hermione shrugged. "I'm not really sure. His mum's a bit… traditional but, then she's said some things to me that might indicate otherwise."

Margot smiled and habitually stroked back Hermione's hair. "So what's stopping you?"

Hermione looked into her mother's eyes and thought long and hard before answering. "The nightmares haven't stopped."

Margot processed Hermione's words and connected the dots. "And he chases them away."

"Yes." She took a deep breath. "I don't want to avoid it anymore. I need to beat them."

Margot's eyes took in the scar on her daughter's neck. Hermione told her and Warren about it back in Australia, how they had been caught briefly and some nasty witch held a knife to her throat. If it wasn't for that house elf, Dobby, Margot would still be Monica wondering what that missing bit of her soul was. Honestly, she was surprised _she_ didn't have nightmares about it but perhaps it was abstract enough. Or perhaps because she worked very hard _not_ to think about it.

Margot took her hand, "If you ever need to talk- if it helps- I'm here."

Hermione smiled in return. "I know, Mum. Thanks. I honestly think I just need time; at least for now. We'll see how it goes."

"All right. Just don't stay out of some misplaced sense of guilt. I've said before, we want you to be happy. Once the surgery is open again, you'll have the days all to yourself; you should go by the Weasley's, be with your friends. Be with Ron."

"I will. I was planning to."

"Good."

Matters of the heart settled, they talked about the plan for day.

*0*

"Ron. No. No, please. Stop, please. No."

Two nights ago, he actually hesitated. She was at her parents' house, she was safe. But then he realized- she was at her parents' house- she was far from safe. Ron grabbed his wand off the bedside table, clicked the deluminator and the familiar blue ball of light emerged. It settled in his heart and he turned on the spot.

He appeared in the back garden of the Granger residence. There was a light in her room, but otherwise the house was dark. A light appeared on the first floor and he saw her. Hermione was in her nightclothes, hair scattered as usual. He could see her flick her wand at the kettle and get a cup from the cupboard. She sat at the table where Crookshanks waited for her; the fluffball settled into her lap while she drank.

It had been the same thing each night since. At least he remembered to grab the invisibility cloak after the first night. He didn't know how the deluminator worked, but it seemed he would hear Hermione's voice only when he was away from her and when she truly needed him. Ron was surprised when he heard her voice their first night in Australia; he was lying awake playing with a lamp when he heard her and nearly dropped the thing. Ron rushed up the stairs, two or three at a time, to get to her. He had thought, as she did, that the nightmares had stopped. On those first several nights at Shell Cottage, Rom heard her cry out through the deluminator first and he always tried to get to her before she started screaming.

Ron understood why she wanted to sleep alone. She was Hermione Granger: smart, brave and strong-willed; no one would get the better of her. If she could catch Rita Skeeter in a jar, she could banish that Lestrange bitch from her dreams. Unfortunately, that meant he was going to have to deal with his nightmares too.

He never talked about them; Hermione had enough to worry about with her own. Ron held her at night as much for her as himself. If she was in his arms, then she was safe. When he had first gotten her to Shell Cottage, while she was unconscious and everyone was still running around, he made a tear-filled promise to her. He would protect her. He would never let anyone hurt her again. He would fight, to his last breath, to keep his promise.

Unfortunately, that promise became his nightmare. Before he started sleeping in the chair at her bedside, Ron slept in a room with Harry and Dean. For those first several nights he was awoken by Dean, shaking him. He was trapped in the cellar again, beating on the door, clawing at the lock, desperate to get to her. Hermione's screams echoed in his ears, tore at his soul. In the nightmare, it was even worse... he could see her. The wall was transparent and he could see her thrash on the floor with each curse thrown. The curses manifested themselves as gashes in her skin such that blood covered her body. Dean always managed to rouse him just as Greyback was about to sink his teeth into her.

In his nightmare he was helpless. Worthless. Pathetic.

Yet for reasons he still didn't completely understand, it was him that she turned to. He was the one who could calm her and keep her nightmares away. Whenever she could, Hermione sat next to him. And it was him that she kissed. Him that she slept with. Him that she snogged. Him that she gave her body to. His name that she moaned.

Hermione would look at him, with her beautiful brown eyes smiling, and Ron felt invincible. She believed in him, and she was the smartest person he knew, so there must be something worth believing in.

He told her that he wanted to spend his life with her, making her happy. He meant it because he knew that meant _he_ would spend his life being happy. Ron knew in that moment, standing under the cloak in her parents' garden at midnight, he would find a way to keep his promise.

Ron wasn't sure what he wanted to do for a living. What was he good at? During career counseling at school, he said he wanted to be an Auror but, that was because Harry said he wanted to. Did he want to be an Auror? Was he even good enough? If he was an Auror, he would know how to protect Hermione. He could keep her safe. He would need training, certainly.

Movement caught his eye and he saw Hermione's mum enter the kitchen. He liked Margot; and Warren for that matter. And they seemed to like him, so that was a plus.

Hermione was the dream he thought would never come true; but what he wanted more than anything. For what seemed beyond all reason, she was his. Ron wouldn't waste this, he wouldn't fuck it up. He would be there when she needed him, he would make her laugh, he would make her sigh in pleasure, he would support her regardless of how barmy he thought the cause.

And he would always go to her when she called his name.

Tonight, Hermione was safe and her mum was there to talk to. Ron returned to the Burrow and his own restless sleep. Maybe becoming an Auror was the thing. He'd look into it in the morning. None the wiser, Hermione and her Mum continued to talk and enjoy their tea.

* * *

A/N: Today's Top Tip: NEVER contract Shingles. I best described it as being bludgeoned with a cricket bat in the forehead and then having small spikes hammered into all the nerve endings of my left eyebrow. It hit me Saturday morning and I've been out ever since. Fortunately for me the last two days have been pain free, just a very puffy eyelid that made it exhausting to keep my eye open.

Fortunately for You this chapter was finished last Friday, graciously read and proofed over the weekend by HalfASlug, polished today and posted for your enjoyment.

The consequence: I'm off my game and I have some Real Life stuff coming up that will suck up some free time. Whilst icing my puffy eye, I did think about the next chapter and have a plan. I also came up with a drabble that will get written first. So, while things may slow down a bit around here at AUF headquarters, regular programming will resume shortly.

A hearty THANKS to my faithful supporters! And a shout out to JKR's solicitors!


	15. Undone

A/N: whilst it's not totally necessary, you might want to read (if you have not done so already) my "Fairytale Dropping" #4, 'Preparations' as it directly ties to this chapter.

* * *

**An Unconventional Fairytale: Undone**

Hermione watched as Ron dropped out of the sky. Feet barely on the ground, he cast aside his broom and lifted her into his arms. You would have thought it had been weeks since she'd last seen him, but it had only been days. Hermione's parents reopened their dental surgery the day before and, after some spell modifications, patients were slowly starting to trickle back in. It would take some time, but she expected that within a few months they'd be back to where they had left it a year ago.

So today she was on her own, and that meant the Burrow. She apparated outside the front gate and went inside to a warm welcome from Fleur and Molly, who then promptly shooed her outside to where everyone was playing Quidditch. Ron spotted her from his roost and with a whoop, swept down to meet her. From the corner of her eye, Hermione could see Harry and Ginny, side by side on their brooms, smirking at Ron's exuberance. She didn't care. If there was any place to be carefree with her boyfriend it was here.

"I'm afraid you'll have to make do without me, mate."

Harry had lowered closer to the ground, "So I've gathered."

George, not missing the opportunity, joined the conversation. "I see how it is, Quidditch isn't enough anymore. Going to ditch us for the bookworm. Fine, off with you. Least now we'll have even teams."

"See, I'm doing you a favour. Though I'd get Ginny if I were you, 'cause you know Harry is gonna let her get the snitch."

"Oi!"

Bill laughed from his high perch, "Come on, Potter, you know it's true."

Harry blushed and tried not to let Ginny see. "She doesn't like it when I _let her_ win."

Ron smirked at him, "Well, I'll leave you lovebirds to sort it out. Meanwhile, I'm going to go song mine. Cheers."

Hermione hadn't had a chance to get one word in the exchange and could only roll her eyes at the ribbing they gave each other. But it was a very good thing to see. Despite being fractured, the Weasley family endured as they always have: with laughter and love.

"Come on."

Ron had retrieved his broom and now held out his hand to her. Hermione smiled brightly and didn't hesitate to settle onto the broom behind him. She was surprised when he didn't head for the tree at the boundary.

"Back to the house?"

"Well, I want to get lunch before we go."

Of course- his stomach. How silly of her to ask. Ron dashed up to his room to get a blanket and rucksack while Hermione got food for them both. Back on his broom, he flew them out past the orchard and to the boundary fence. As before, he took them beyond to the beautiful old oak tree. Ron laid out the blanket and food and Hermione placed a few charms around them for good measure.

Ron had just swallowed his first sip of butter beer and Hermione's lips were fastened to his.

He pulled back just enough to mumble, "Um, missed you too."

"Terrible, aren't I? It's not like I didn't just see you a couple days ago."

"It's not terrible. I missed you as well. Considering we've spent pretty much every day together for the last several months, a couple of days apart feel like an eternity."

"That's true."

Ron gave her a wry smile, "see what you've done?"

"Pardon?"

"Here I am, making sense, being all logical. It's all your fault."

Hermione's face pinched, but the laugh broke free regardless. "Ha! Yes, all my fault. I accept full responsibility."

"Damn right. What will people say?"

"Oh yes, wouldn't want people thinking you've gone all mature or anything."

Ron sat up a bit straighter, head aloft. "I do have a reputation to uphold."

She couldn't keep it up. "Just eat your lunch."

"Yes ma'am."

It wasn't before long that roast beef sandwiches had been consumed and butterbeer bottles emptied. With a magnetic force to rival that of the earth's own gravity, Hermione was drawn into Ron's lap. Hands threaded into hair and under clothing and mouths sealed to one another.

"Fuck, you feel so good."

"Umm. You make me feel so good."

Looking into his blue eyes, Hermione thought about how comfortable she had become with Ron within just a couple of weeks. Then again, she'd desired this for years now. Her mother was right, after all this time she didn't feel like they were rushing anything. With each part of herself that she gave him, Hermione felt… right. Her only hesitation steamed from her own insecurities about her appearance, not about if she actually wanted to go through with it.

Ron had kissed his way down her neck to her partly exposed chest. She chose the sweetheart neckline dress on purpose; plus, it didn't require a bra. Her fingers slipped through his beautiful ginger hair and she felt his chest rumble with a low moan. His fingers tugged at the straps of her dress.

"'S ok?"

So sweet, thinking he still had to ask. "Of course."

Her breath caught when he tugged a nipple between his lips.

"So beautiful."

"Oh. Ron."

Hermione pulled her arms out of the straps so she could pull at his shirt. Ron released her long enough to lift his arms so she could remove it. She skimmed her fingertips over his chest, brushing his nipples, causing him to shudder.

"You like it too?"

"Apparently."

"Maybe this as well?"

Hermione bent forward to lick his nipple in return.

"Fuck."

Ron gave a little chuckle at her self-satisfied smirk. "There she is. I wondered when my naughty witch would show up."

Hermione wasn't yet ready to fully accept the title, so she quieted him with a deep kiss. His hands stroked her back down to her bum, eliciting a moan. Ron tightened his hold and crushed her breasts to his chest, drawing her tongue into his mouth.

"Turn 'round."

Hermione looked at him questioningly, but complied. He looked to have something in mind, and to date everything that he'd done to her body has been sheer bliss. She was sat in his lap, back to his chest and her legs draped outside his. Hermione's eyes slid shut as his hands cupped her breasts and gently tugged at her nipples.

"Sometimes, I nearly forget that you're real."

Her head lolled against his shoulder, "Why?"

"I imagined you so often, never thinking you'd ever really be mine. I actually tried to stop for a while, thinking it would stop my heart aching." Ron pressed his lips to her temple. "Didn't help."

"So, you _imagined_ me often?"

_Sigh._ "Yeah."

"What were you doing when you were imagining me?"

"Ah. What?"

"What were you doing? Daydreaming in class? Skiving off homework? Something else?"

"Ah, yeah. All those things."

"Huh, interesting."

Ron looked down at her. "You sound disappointed."

Hermione looked out over the tall grass of the farmer's field. "It's just that whenever I _imagined_ you it was often while I was masturbating."

He choked on his own saliva. "Excuse me!"

"What?"

"You mean you… touched yourself? To me?"

Hermione finally turned to look up at him. "Yes. I do."

"Bloody hell." She stifled her laugh lest he misunderstand. Ron was now staring out to the field, his hands still firmly grasping her breasts, his fingers absently stroking her nipples. It was an odd conflict of feelings.

"Wait. You said 'do'."

She quirked her lips. "Yes. I did."

"Fuck."

"Speaking of… would you please either stop your hands or finish what you had started."

Ron looked down and saw what she spoke of. "Oh! Right. Sorry. Probably getting tender by now."

"Yes. Rather."

He relocated his hands down to her belly. "You distracted me."

"So there was a plan?"

Ron slipped one hand down to her hip and the other to just under her breast. "As a matter of fact, yes. There's an upside to you sleeping at your parents'."

Hermione couldn't help but squirm a little under his hands. "Oh?"

"What with Harry in Percy's old room now, that means I've had a chance to get some reading in."

"Oh. Learn anything good?"

"You could say that." He tipped his head to whisper in her ear. "I learned that my girlfriend has read at least one part."

Hermione froze. _What_ had compelled her to do that?

The hand at her hip started slowly gathering up her skirt. "Do you remember what part you read?"

Her heart was pounding in her chest. "Yes."

His lips were brushing against her ear, his thumb caressing the underside of her breast. "And do you remember what you wrote?"

_Oh God._ Her breath was quick and short. "Yes."

His fingertips began playing with the waistband of her knickers. "What did you write?"

Time stopped. "Yes please."

Her breath was sucked in and her back arched as he cupped his hand between her legs. Ron pressed a finger onto her bundle of nerves and slowly moved it back and forth.

"I was sure to read very carefully."

"Oh." It was hard to form words. "Ron."

"You can tell me if I'm doing it right, seeing as you know what you like already."

Her brain was swiftly disengaging but she managed a nod. The sensations in her body were overwhelming- and his hand was still outside her knickers.

"That is so fucking hot; thinking about you touching yourself."

His finger was moving too slow. Her hips began to push up to urge him on.

"More?"

Hermione caught her breath long enough to croak out, "Yes. More."

Ron stopped and slipped his hand into her knickers, finding her nub again and resuming his motions but a little harder and faster this time.

It was fortunate she had cast a few wards upon their arrival, or someone might have heard the moan that tore from her throat. Her hands pressed down over the top of his, holding him in place. Her hips continued to gyrate; head tossed back, eyes wide, her breath stuck. A few flicks more and her orgasm took her. Hermione cried out and fought to regain her breath.

Over the years, she'd brought herself to climax plenty of times but nothing her own hand accomplished compared to this. Had she been doing it wrong all this time? Was it just the fact that it was Ron doing it?

"You are so beautiful."

Panting, Hermione turned to look up at him, expecting to see his usual satisfied smirk. Instead, it was gentle and filled with awe. Between breaths she said, "I figured my face would be all screwed up funny."

"Yeah. But it was amazing to watch you. It was just… bliss. You were beautiful."

He'd done it again. Gone off and said something wonderful.

"I love you."

Ron leaned down to kiss her, but only made it to her forehead. "I love you too." He brought his free hand up to caress her check with his knuckles. "There's something else I read in my book."

"You've got quite a bit of reading in."

"Trouble falling asleep." He placed a kiss to her temple. "I read that women can come like that again. And again. And again."

Before she had to chance to react, the fingers under her knickers moved further down to her slick folds.

"Fuck. You are so wet."

Hermione gasped at his touch and his words. His fingertips gently slipped and searched as her heart began to race once again. Her hips started moving in rhythm with his fingers. Spread out on top of him, topless with his hand down her knickers, Hermione felt wonton. It was wonderful.

She cried out when Ron's searching finger found the entrance to her core and dipped inside. Up, down and in, out. Over and over. Her hands couldn't stay still; grasping his arms, up to his shoulders, to her own mouth, the back of his head. His rhythm didn't break.

"This is good?"

"Mm." She nodded yes.

"More?"

"Yes," she gasped, eyes shut so tight she saw stars.

With each stroke, his finger dipped a little deeper. His pace picked up until he was no longer stroking up and down, just in and out. Merlin, his fingers were long. The memory of holding and stroking his penis came to mind and she moaned deeply at the implication.

At some point, orgasm took her again. She shuddered, hips jerked, body contracted tight around him. She was spent. It could have been minutes or hours later when she opened her eyes. In her field of vision was his hand; the one that was in her knickers. His fingers shone with her wetness and she felt her womb contract. He brought them to his face; she could only presume to smell or… taste.

_Oh God_. What if she was awful? He wouldn't want to touch her again or… other things. From the ear pressed to his chest, she heard a rumble. After years of watching him eat, she knew the sound. He liked it. _Oh._

"You back with us?"

"What? Oh, yes. That was… was…"

"Amazing."

_Sigh_. "Yes. Amazing."

Ron carefully pulled her skirt back down as best he could, and helped pull her legs both to one side. Hermione snuggled into his chest and his arms wrapped around her.

He took a deep breath, "I'm not sure how to say this. It seems the wrong thing, but… thank you."

"Thank you? For?"

"Giving yourself to me. Your body. Letting me make you come undone." He paused to take a deep breath. "I know it's a big thing, for girls. It feels like, sometimes, for guys anyway, it's almost expected, to get off with our girlfriends. But then, sometimes, the girl ends up being looked down on." Hermione didn't dare break his thoughts by interrupting him. "So, it's a big thing for you. And, I just wanted you to know that I know. I understand what it means and, I… I'm… honored."

She shifted to look up at him. His look of affection warmed her soul and brightened her smile. Hermione briefly thought about when she glanced through his book and found the "Respecting Her Emotions" section and wondered if this meant he had read it. "You're right; it is a 'big thing'. And I can't begin to tell you how happy I am that I choose to 'give myself' to you." Hermione stroked his cheek down to his lips. "When you told me you didn't want to fumble, that you'd got a book, I didn't really understand what that meant. I was ready, right then, to… have sex. I didn't care about fumbling and awkwardness." She blushed a little at the thought, despite what had just recently transpired. "I understand now. It was more than just love; it was respect. You didn't just want to have sex. It was more. You wanted to… make love."

Hermione shifted around to face him fully. Ron had that proud-yet-unworthy look he often got when he excelled. "It's I who should be thanking you. For taking such good care of me. For loving me the way that you do. I just hope that I'm worthy of you."

"Worthy of me?" Ron looked at her incredulously. "I don't know if _I'm_ worthy of _you_."

Hermione smiled in laughter. "That's nonsense. But either way, I want you. I've got you. And I don't plan on ever letting go. You're stuck with me."

He returned her smile. "Oh bloody hell. All right, if I can't shake you, might as well get used to it. At least you can cook."

"Prat!"

He laughed. "I love you too." Ron pressed his lips to hers.

No, she was never letting go. Which was mandatory, since it was promising to be quite the ride. Perhaps she should consider some safety equipment.

"Did you pack any biscuits?"

Her eyes pinched in frustration while her mouth quirked in laughter. That was her Ron. After everything they'd just shared and done, he was looking for the biscuits.

* * *

A/N: Welcome back to a 'normal' chapter. Yes, I know that last drabble over at 'Droppings' was rather odd. I'll blame it on the pain killers. Yes, that sounds plausible.

My first true lemon. Not the easiest thing to write, but I have plenty of excellent examples to reference. Speaking of, have you read the delightfully-adjective-laden "Undertow" by hedwigshero yet? Fantastic stuff.

Also, my continuing thanks to my readers and reviewers- while I write this story mostly for myself, your extremely kind words certainly go a long way to keeping the fire lit under my ass.

Which segues to my next disclaimer that life has been keeping me busy so I'm not sure when the next chapter is coming, but I promise that it will come. Yes, I said that just so HalfASlug would snigger. It's my way of saying 'thank you'- again.

J.K. Rowling has given her personal approval of this story. A Nigerian Prince is trying desperately to move his money to the United States. There are some lovey parcels of land along the southern coast of Florida for sale. All True. Really.


	16. Unfinished Business

**An Unconventional Fairytale:** **Unfinished Business**

The strangest thing about dinner at the Grangers' was how quiet it was. Dinner at the Burrow was usually a noisy affair, the twins being the defacto culprits. Sure, the Grangers' talked about their day and such while they ate, but everyone took turns and never spoke with their mouth full.

Ron didn't talk much during these dinners since he was usually too busy making sure to chew his food fully and slowly so as not to belch. He figured that after a few more meals, he'd get used to it and be able to participate more. He was hoping this would be the case since he anticipated many more meals here in the future.

This evening's meal centered on a Muggle sport called football and whether or not England had a chance. Ron recalled that Dean had been a fan of football, though he couldn't remember any of the particulars of it other than it involved a ball that did _not_ look like a foot. To his credit, Warren did try to include Ron in on the conversation saying that David Seaman, from his favourite team Arsenal, would be in goal for England. He was attempting to compare the football goalie to Ron's roll as Quidditch Keeper, "The thing about Tunisia was, they spent the game trying to walk it past Seaman." Alas, it took all of Ron's energies just to keep from sniggering at the goal keeper's name. Plus, Hermione was glaring at him from across the table; damn woman knew him too well.

Warren admitted that football was a "guilty pleasure" for him as neither Margot nor Hermione expressed any interest in the sport. Tonight Warren planned on watching a match so he "wouldn't be much company" and Margot wanted to catch up on some reading. It was music to Ron's ears.

And so that was how Ron found himself reclining on Hermione's bed as she snuggled against his chest, between his legs. They hadn't much more than snogged a bit (there may have been some groping) since her parents were just downstairs. Frankly, he didn't care. Hermione was in his arms and that's all that really mattered.

"So, George is gonna reopen the shop this week."

Hermione looked up from his chest. "That's wonderful."

"Yeah. It's not gonna be easy at first, but hopefully with time he'll get more comfortable with it."

"He's not going to open it all by himself, is he? Has he been able to contact Verity or the others to see if they'll come back?"

"Yeah, Verity anyway. She said she'd be back next week. I also kinda told him I'd help too."

Her eyebrows rose, "That's really sweet of you Ron. I'm sure George will appreciate having a brother there with him."

He shrugged a little and his ears turned slightly pink. "Yeah, well, I was sorta the one who convinced him to reopen. Promised I'd be there to help out if he, you know, needed a moment or something."

"Well, I think it's wonderful that you're helping him." Hermione gave him a deep kiss to make her point.

"Um. Well, there's a downside."

"Oh?"

"I'll be helping all day, so we won't have as much time together. No picnics under our tree."

Hermione smiled warmly at his pouty lower lip. "Surely you'll get some days off. We'll picnic then."

He was still pouty. "Yeah, suppose."

She twisted to face him better and stroke his cheek. "You're being so kind, so generous to your brother. It just makes me love you even more." She blushed a little and her eyes downcast coyly. "It makes you so… desirable- even more so. And not getting to spend as much time with you, I'll be missing you. Longing. We'll want to make the… most of it. Take full advantage."

He watched her as she spoke, realization slowly dawning. "Full advantage, eh?"

She gave him her best innocently-naughty look. "Yes."

"Fuck."

Her eyebrow lifted in a kind of agreement.

Flashes of Hermione, head thrown back in pleasure, crossed his mind. His fingers found their own way to the hem of her top. "We could ward your door?"

She gave him a sympathetic smile. "Tempting, but I've used enough magic on my parents as it is. I'm not keen on using more."

He sagged in resignation. "Yeah."

Her hand stroked along his chest and shoulder. "You'll just have to let me know when your first day off is."

"Will do." Ron leaned down to kiss her lips and was met with enthusiasm. Merlin, kissing her was heaven. As they started to roll over so that he would be over her, he caught himself and stopped half way.

"Bollocks," he lamented as he released her and leaned back. "It's not easy, holding back. Hope your parents appreciate the sacrifices I make for them."

Now lying on the bed, Hermione lightly laughed at his perceived ordeal. "I'm told anticipation is the best part."

"Obviously said by someone who already has _it_."

"But you already know that you're going to get _it_."

Ron pursed his lips at her, "Doesn't help. Almost makes it worse."

"Would it help if I said I'm eager too?"

Fuck, she was gorgeous. Laid back on the bed, hair splayed out like a halo, lips swollen from being sucked on… "Then I'd ask why the door isn't warded by now?"

"I've gone over that."

"Then we're back to the start and my trousers are still too tight. Could we change topic? And sit up, because you're looking all _come hither_ laid back like that."

Hermione sat up crossed legged next to him, a blush tinting her cheeks. "Better?"

"Yes. Thank you."

"New topic then." She pursed her lips and pondered. Hermione gave him a sidelong glance and worry creased her eyes.

"What's with this look? I asked for a new topic, not new problem."

She bit her lower lip, "Well, there is something I've been thinking about lately. I don't mean it to be a problem, but… it's important and we should talk about it."

Ron's shoulders dropped and he wiped his face with his hands. "All right, I'm ready. What is it?"

She took a deep breath, "Well, you know how the Minister gave us all exemptions from our N.E.W.T.s?"

Why did he get the impression he knew where this was going? "Yeah."

"Well, I was thinking." Hermione looked at him worriedly. "I'm thinking I want to take them. I want to finish my last year." She sat up as straight as she could and put on a brave face. "I want to go back to Hogwarts."

He just looked at her, taking in her hopeful yet concerned expression. The funny thing was that, the day they all got letters from Kingsley exempting them from N.E.W.T.s, he figured Hermione would be disappointed. Barmy girl actually _liked_ tests. He knew it was her way of proving herself; as if she needed a piece of paper to tell her she was smart. At the time, he wondered deep down if she'd want to go back.

_Sigh._ "Somehow, I kinda saw this coming; that you'd want to finish what you started. School is so important to you." He looked deep into her eyes, "I'm _not_ going back."

Hermione leaned forward to grasp his hand. "I know. I wasn't asking you to. I know school was never your _thing_. I just… I feel this is something I have to do. For me."

Ron squeezed the hand in his. "Yeah. As much as I'll hate it with you gone, suppose I'll make do."

She tried to brighten her smile. "We'll have Hogsmeade weekends, and Quidditch games, and the holidays together. I'll write to you all the time, and maybe you'll even write back."

His eyes narrowed at her sarcastic comment. "Humph. Maybe I'll show you? Maybe I'll write to you more than you to write me?"

"Is that a challenge?"

"What if it is?"

Hermione shifted to her knees so she could lean into him, bringing her eyes and lips in line with his. "Is there a prize for the winner?"

Ron licked his lips. "I'm sure we can come up with something… appropriate."

Her lips fluttered against his, the tip of her tongue teasing them open. As soon as his tongue joined hers, Hermione closed her lips to suck. Ron's hands slipped down to squeeze her bum and pull her closer.

"Hermione! Ron! Do you want any pudding?"

There was a popping sound as they disconnected and mutual blushing as they realized they'd been nearly pulled under once again. It really _was_ hard to restrain themselves.

"Be right down, Mum." Hermione nervously glanced at Ron. "Perhaps we should…"

"Yeah."

After much straightening of clothes, fixing of hair and some charms to reduce puffy lips, they finally made their way downstairs for dessert.

* * *

A/N: So, it's only a little late. I was shooting for Hermione's birthday, but didn't quite make it. So Happy Belated Birthday dear fictional character! Sorry it wasn't a lemon. Maybe next time.

Once again HalfASlug proves her worth with Football assistance along with the usual comma positioning and avoiding of sand.

J.K. Rowling is considering suing me, but only because I had to remove the Hitchhikers Guide reference.


	17. Altered

**An Unconventional Fairytale: Altered**

Hermione couldn't help herself. She and her parents had just arrived to the Burrow and were barely out of the car when Ron came out to greet them. Though she would deny it, Hermione squeaked when she saw him and ran into his arms. Ron stooped enough to lift her into his embrace, their lips locking in a kiss. He didn't hold her up for long; her parents were _right there_ after all.

"Hi."

She sucked in his scent, "Hi."

Ron turned away, "Mrs. Granger, good to see you again."

"And you Ron," said Margot as she hugged Ron in greeting. "Doing well?"

"Yes, ma'am." Ron reached his hand out to Warren who took it firmly, "Sir."

"Ron. Lovely little spot your parents have out here."

"Thank you, sir." Hermione had insisted that her parents, like her, didn't care about the value of the house, just the family that lived in it. "It's not much but it's home."

Hermione had returned to the car to let Crookshanks out of his carrier. He too seemed to get carried away and bounded across the yard to the garden in search of gnomes.

"Come on inside, Mum's been in a cooking tizzy all afternoon."

Margot stepped in line with Ron and Hermione. "Oh, I hope she hasn't gone to too much trouble for us."

"Nothing more than usual. Personally, I think she likes it." Ron took Hermione's hand and led them all inside.

As promised, Molly had every surface in the kitchen covered with dishes and the house smelled wonderful. Apparently she had invited the entire family since everyone but Charlie was there to meet Hermione's parents. There was a whirlwind of introductions with promises to review everyone's names again later.

Hermione tried to prepare her parents for the experience that was the Weasley family. Even knowing Ron and the siblings that had attended Hogwarts for their first two years hadn't completely prepared her for life at the Burrow. Age didn't seem to temper them either. She needn't had worried. Despite the lot of them crammed around the dining table and the usual volume level, Warren and Margot looked to be thoroughly enjoying themselves.

Arthur, not so nonchalantly, cleared his throat and turned to Warren. "I see you drove your automobile here. I hope the drive was pleasant; I know it's a long one."

"Just under three hours, but traffic in the country is so much more pleasant. I suppose you'd like a little drive around later?" Warren gave Arthur a knowing grin.

"Oh, well, that's not entirely necessary." Arthur sputtered, ears turning red. "I _have_ been driven in them before. Had one for a while in fact."

"Until Ron flew it into the Whomping Willow," George muttered.

"Oi! I did not _fly_ it into that tree. It crashed," Ron said, with conviction, "of its own volition."

This was _not_ one of the stories Hermione wanted her parents to hear about.

"And then he lost it in the Forbidden Forest," George added, not helping.

"Again, not my fault. It _ran away_. Good thing too, seeing as it saved Harry and I from the giant spiders."

At this point, Hermione was seeing stars behind her closed eyes, her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Hey!" Harry finally spoke up. "You just said 'Harry and I'."

Ron looked at him, confused. "So?"

"Well, usually you'd say 'Me and Harry'. Hermione's finally rubbing off on you."

There was a group chuckle around the table, so it took good hearing to hear George's final salvo, "I bet that's not all she's rubbing."

Unfortunately for George, Hermione had excellent hearing and _Ron_ had been rubbing off on _her_. There was a yelp and everyone turned to see George leaned to one side, rubbing his bum. He was glaring at Hermione who was giving him her best prefect eyebrow-of-righteousness.

In the ensuing silence, Molly was the first to speak up. "Serves you right."

Warren and Arthur, bless them, were oblivious to what had just transpired but everyone else _had_ caught on and the laughter picked right back up again. The two fathers just shrugged and decided that whatever it was had worked itself out.

Margot, much to Hermione's dismay, _had_ been paying attention. "So, giant spiders in the Forbidden Forest?"

*0*

Hermione had managed to deflect her mother away from the topic of acromantula by saying that she had never been into the forest to see them. I wasn't a lie; whenever she went into the forest it wasn't to find acromantula.

Fortunately, the kitchen chairs marching out the door into the garden distracted her parents. The evening weather was lovely, so everyone decided to adjourn outdoors.

"Thank you both so much for having us to your home." Margot took a seat next to Molly. "Dinner was just wonderful. Hermione has always told us what a great cook you are, Molly."

"Oh well, after cooking for nine for so long I was bound to get good at it," Molly shrugged off the compliment.

Arthur patted her knee, "Don't be silly, love, you've always been a master in the kitchen." He rubbed his round belly, "I have evidence of that."

Warren shared the laugh with everyone before turning to Bill, "You made the chairs do that little march. It was delightful, what is the spell called?"

"_Locomotor Cadina_. You could use _Wingardium Leviosa_ but _Cadina_ keeps them orderly."

"Marvellous… all of it really. Watching the pots stir themselves, the dishes being washed, those knitting needles- marvellous!"

Bill smiled at Warren's clear sense of wonder. "Funny thing is, those are all fairly simple charms. Surprised Hermione hasn't shown off her skills for you."

Hermione blushed at Bill's claim, "I wasn't able to perform magic at home, being underage and all. And now, I try to keep it small lest some Muggles see."

Harry jumped on board, "Nothing stopping you here. Surely there's something… flashy you could do for them?"

"Such as?"

Despite the number of witches and wizards in the garden, they were suddenly hard pressed to think of an appropriately 'flashy' spell. At last, Ginny spoke up. "I know- do your Patronus."

There were several nods and voices of agreement, but Hermione looked nervous. "Pick the one spell I struggle with. Harry could do it, his is more impressive anyway."

She heard a "that's true" and a "don't be silly" from the family before her mother spoke up. "What's a- how do you say- patrone?"

This, Hermione could do. "Patronus. It's a charm that's used to ward off darkness. Depending on the strength of the spell determines how effective it is. If it's strong enough it can take a corporeal form- that of an animal."

"Why do you struggle with it?"

_Sigh_. Hermione straightened her shoulders. "You have to use a powerful, happy memory- a strong emotion to give strength to the charm. It's less skill and more… heart." She looked down at her lap, realizing what she admitted to. His hand covered hers and she looked up into Ron's eyes. He was smiling at her, letting her know that at least he understood her struggle.

Warren was still curious, "You said it can look like an animal. Do you get to choose?"

Harry spoke up to relieve Hermione. "No. The form it takes comes from within you. Since it's based on emotions, the animal form has some connection to the person. For instance, mine is a stag. My dad, he was an Animagus- someone who can transform into an animal- he became a stag. Hermione's is an otter." He grinned at her when she looked up.

Warren nodded, "Hermione has mentioned 'Animagus' before. Interesting. An otter?" He turned to his daughter, "So you can do the spell?"

Hermione took a deep sigh, "Yes. I just have trouble under pressure."

George quipped, "No pressure here!" He looked around at the enraptured audience she had.

Apparently he hadn't learned since dinner not to poke her. "Fine." Hermione stood and faced away from the circle of chairs. "Just… give me a minute." She pulled her wand from her pocket, took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She brought forth her happiest memory, which conveniently wasn't very old, and spoke aloud the incantation. "Expecto Patronum!"

A light, blue and silver burst forth from her passion vine wand and took shape almost immediately. As expected, a silver otter began swimming among the chair legs. Round and round it went, to everyone's delight- her parents in particular.

"Oh, Hermione," her mother cried. "It's beautiful!"

The Patronus wove through the chairs until it came to Ron's where it started swirling around him. "Ah, Hermione, why is it… what's that?"

Everyone looked again at her Patronus, which while was still the form of an otter; it had changed since she had last been able to conjure it.

Ginny sniggered, "Hermione, your Patronus had… puppies."

Hermione was stunned to stillness. Her Patronus otter had two pups swimming along with it, and they were now sitting (well, squirming) on Ron's shoulders and atop his head.

He, understandably, looked nervous. "Ah, Hermione?"

She snapped out of her reverie and flicked her wand so they would vanish.

There were a few moments of silence. Margot cleared her throat and asked, "So, I'm taking it there was just the one otter before?"

Hermione still seemed confused. "Yes. Just the one."

Ginny continued smirking. "Geez, Hermione, what memory did you use?"

At this question, Hermione's face, neck, shoulders and most likely her entire body turned a brilliant shade of scarlet.

Eye's nearly popping out of her head in mirth, Ginny muttered, "Never mind."

Hermione looked at everyone around her, all clearly knowing just what sort of memory she had used. Unable to look at Ron, she muttered, "Excuse me" and walked as quickly as possible into the house.

She hid in the bathroom, mortified.

There was a knock, but the voice was not who she was expecting.

"Hermione, dear, can I come in?" Molly Weasley asked.

Between sniffs, "Yes."

Molly came into the room and closed the door behind her. She gave Hermione a sympathetic smile and held out her arms. The young woman nearly collapsed into them and tried desperately not to sob.

"Now, now. There's nothing to cry over. You've done nothing wrong." Molly pushed back some of Hermione's wild hair, "Though your mother's ready to spit fire. Don't blame her. I told her she could have Ginny, just needs to be back to health by September to go back to school."

A laugh escaped Hermione's throat at the thought. "You and she were always the protective mother bear."

"Yes. I asked her if I could come to you; said I could shine some light on what happened."

Hermione was eager to understand, "What did happen? I didn't think changing the memory changed the Patronus."

Molly turned down the lid on the toilet to sit and Hermione sat on the edge of the tub. "No, no. The memory has nothing to do with it; it can make it easier to conjure and give it strength, but it won't _change_ the Patronus." She took a deep breath. "A Patronus is created from the light inside of you; from your soul, if you will. So the only way a Patronus changes is if the person undergoes a change."

Hermione looked deep in thought, so Molly continued, "We all grow and change as we grow older, but _who we are_ doesn't change as much. But sometimes, things happen to people that changes their… perspective. What they had once believed about themselves alters and becomes something new."

Molly took Hermione's hands in her own. "This last year has been hard on all of us, and it changed some of us. Something, or several things, have happened to you that have altered your perception of yourself and that manifested itself in your Patronus. So," Molly sat up and patted Hermione's hand, "don't fret about it. Come back outside and don't let them bother you. That memory is none of their business."

Hermione looked shyly at Molly. "Ron and I… we haven't…"

Molly smiled warmly and sighed. "It doesn't matter. That memory is yours, and you should cherish it. I admit to a bit of… pride it was my son who gave it to you." She let out a resigned breath. "A year ago I held onto tradition, attempting to cling to some sense of normality. I lost a son not even a month ago; nothing will ever be as it was. We have to make a new normal. You and Ron, well you remind me so much of Arthur and I; you're meant to be. That, and I trust you to be smart about it."

Hermione's cheeks tinged pink and she looked down, "Yes."

"Good. Now come back downstairs. Speaking of Ron, he's all worried about you."

They went back outside to rejoin the family. Conversation had turned to curse breaking and Bill held everyone's attention with some of his more humorous stories. Ron looked to Hermione with questioning eyes and she smiled to reassure him. She took her seat next to him and smiled shyly at her parents before leaning into his side for comfort. His arm wrapped around her shoulders and she was safe again. Hermione opened her eyes to look at Molly, who smiled warmly at her and nodded.

"I saved some tart for you."

Hermione looked up at Ron who was holding a plate with half a treacle tart. "You saved me some?"

"Well, yeah."

For Ron, saving some of his dessert for her was the pinnacle of gallantry, and she adored him for it. Hermione giggled at Bill and Fleur's story about a jinxed bidet and enjoyed every bite of her tart.

_...more to come in chapter 18._

* * *

A/N: There is more to this chapter; namely why Hermione's Patronus changed and the nature of the change. For now let's just say that JKR used Hermione's Patronus as a kind of foreshadowing for her and I like to follow canon. What I had written thus far was enough for a chapter so I cut it off here so I could post this week. Ron and Hermione are going to talk about it in the next chapter, after enjoying a tart citrus fruit.

As always, HalfASlug has done her thing, though I seem to be getting better at this writing thing. Before long I may not need her anymore. Gasp!

J.K. Rowling has moved on to newer and better things; so mucking about in her attic shouldn't be an issue.


	18. Exposed

**An Unconventional Fairytale**: Exposed

It took all her will not to run up the stairs to the attic bedroom. Hermione hoped there were enough natural creeks in the old house that her mother, sleeping in Percy's old room with her father, wouldn't notice one more as she crept by. Harry had been displaced to the twins' old room for fear there may be old jokes left behind; Molly didn't want Warren or Margot to be the ones to stumble upon them.

The door was ajar, waiting for her. Hermione slipped in, closed it and added a silencing spell for good measure. Ron was sitting up, waiting for her, shirt already off. She dropped her wand onto the side table and straddled his lap. Hands all over each other's bodies, lips and tongues sucking- Merlin, she'd been waiting for this.

"Missed you," Ron whispered. "Miss having you in my bed."

"I miss being here." She punctuated her statement with a deep kiss.

"You warded the door."

Kiss. "Yes."

His hands slipped under her vest. "Thought you weren't going to use magic on your parents?"

Her fingers threaded into his hair. "This isn't their house. It's already filled with magic."

"Fair enough." And he lifted her top off.

His mouth sucked and kissed his way along her neck, down to her chest. When he arrived between her breasts he stopped to look up at her. "So fucking beautiful."

Hermione closed her eyes at the crude compliment. She would never understand why it aroused her. Perhaps it was the blatant honesty, or maybe she really _was_ naughty. Either way, it fueled the fire that burned in her gut and she pushed him back to lie on the mattress. Hermione followed a similar path from his neck to shoulder to chest. Ron's hands remained busy, fitting between their bodies so he could continue kneading her breasts.

She could feel the coil in her belly tightening and knew where this would lead if they let it. Funny thing, being in a relationship at long last- Hermione found her thoughts turning to the occasional romantic notion. She had always prided herself on her practicality, but lately she'd been daydreaming about her… intimate time with Ron.

"Umm, Ron?" she asked between kisses. "I've been thinking."

Ron's hands stopped their delightful motions. "Oh?"

Hermione lifted up enough to bring her face to his, but kept her body against his. "Don't panic, nothing bad."

"Ah huh."

"Seriously, don't automatically assume that when I think it's something bad for you. This is a good thing. Sort of."

He didn't look convinced. "Sort of?"

"Well, it's just that… when I think about… us… you know…" Her checks had turned pink and her eyes downcast, "…making love, for the first time-"

"You think about it?"

Her eyes shot back to his, "Of course. Don't you?"

"All the time."

"Exactly. So anyway, the first time… when I think about it- we're at our tree."

Ron's brow furrowed. "Outside?"

"Well, yes. But that's not the point." Hermione had adopted her let-me-inform-you face. "It's just that, it's _our_ place. We've already… you know, shared so much of each other there." Her shoulders slumped. "I know, it's silly and romantic and stupid…"

"I never said it was stupid." His hand cupped her cheek. "I just thought you'd want to be, you know, inside. But if you want it to be at our tree, then so be it. Just so long as we do it in my bed at some point, don't care where we do it first."

Her eyebrows rose and she lifted herself off him to get a better look. "_At some point_?"

"Well, yeah. You dream about doing it under our tree, I dream about you in my bed."

Her lips quirked in amusement, "Point made." Hermione lowered herself such that her breasts pressed to his chest and her lips fluttered over his. "What to know what else I dream about?"

"Does it involve knee socks and uniform ties?"

"What?"

"Nevermind. You were saying."

Her eyes narrowed but she continued, "I _also_ dream about someday, when we'll have _our_ bed."

The mirth drifted off his features and he smiled gently. "Yeah?"

"We _do_ keep promising forever and always to one another. It's only natural- 'our bed'."

Ron's hands skimmed down her spine to her bottom. "I like the sound of that."

Her lips sealed with his, "Me too."

She continued her earlier explorations before romantic notions distracted her. Hermione imagined she was connecting-the-dots along his shoulders with her kisses. As she got to his chest, the freckles were fewer and further between and her kisses started dragging down his skin. Her tongue flicked out to taste him and her lips slid along the moistened skin. Down his belly she traveled; Ron was too lost in sensation to really notice her path.

He swiftly became aware of her location when her chin bumped into his pajama clad erection. He sucked in his breath at the contact and a groan escaped when it released. Hermione kissed his belly just above the navel and wrapped her fingers around his penis.

"Fuck."

From her position, Hermione turned her eyes up to look at his face while she stroked him. He seemed torn between watching her and rolling his eyes back in his head. As the fingers from her free hand found his waistband, a thought flitted across her mind- _maybe I am naughty_.

In a moment when his eyes were closed, she lifted and pulled down his pajama bottoms (which were apparently the only clothes he had on) and, before she had time to really think about it, kissed him on the very tip.

"Holy! Fuck! You…"

Hermione didn't look up at him. Her hair shielded her; she knew her face must be bright red. But, when Hermione Granger sets her mind to a task, she completes it. Wrapping her fingers around him again, she recalled what her book had to say on the subject and gave him a tentative lick.

"Fuck!"

His hips bucked a little and she knew she was on the right track. She tried it again and tasted something salty. There were a few things suggested in her book that she wasn't sure she would be able to physically accomplish (she was beginning to think he wasn't average)- but, she had to start somewhere. She sealed her lips around the head and drew her tongue over him. His hands grasped her shoulder and some hair.

"Oh, Fuck! Shit!"

His hips bucked again and she felt warm liquid spurt into her mouth. While it wasn't unexpected, the timing was and she nearly gagged. Her mouth popped open but his hands kept her from sitting up right away. "Ah, Ron?"

"Shit. Sorry."

He released her and Hermione sat up. "It's all right. I can tell you weren't expecting that."

He laughed between gasping breaths. "You could say that." He smirked at her, "Ah, you might want to… you've got a little…" He gestured at his face.

Hermione touched her check and felt the sticky fluid. "Oh." Checks turning pink, she reached across him to pick up her wand. "Yes, well, you've got a bit of a mess here too." A silent charm cleaned them both.

"Sorry 'bout that. I wanted to warn you. Just couldn't, you know."

"It's okay. I _did_ know what I was doing."

As she leaned forward to set her wand back down, Ron pulled her down flush to him. "You did? You mean you're _knowledgeable_ on the subject?"

"Well, it's not the first time I've made you…" Her lips pursed shyly. "…come. And I _have_ read up. I have my own book you know."

"So you've mentioned," he smirked at her. "That was brilliant, by the way. Maybe someday I'll last longer than thirty seconds."

"I think that was longer than thirty seconds."

"All right, forty seconds. Suppose if you keep doing it I'll get more used to it."

"Is that your subtle way of asking me to do it again?"

"Nothing subtle about it. Hermione, would you lick my cock again?"

Her eyes closed in an attempt to fight the smile, but it was a losing battle. "Right now?"

"Actually, no. I have a different idea."

Hermione opened her mouth to ask what the idea was, but she was being flipped onto her back and her mouth covered with his. Ron broke the kiss and waggled his eyebrows. His hands slipped under her bottom and grabbed the waistband of her pajamas. He lifted her and pulled them down to her knees when she realized that he had caught her knickers as well.

"Ron!"

He placed a kiss low on her belly before looking up at her face. "My turn."

Her eyes widened in recognition as he descended upon her. She had no idea what to expect other than her book told her that oral sex was an excellent way to give your partner an orgasm. It certainly worked on Ron.

When his lips kissed her clitoris she cried out and inhaled at the same time. Her hands flew out, found the headboard and held on.

"Oh! Ron! Oh."

He pushed her clothes down her legs and off. His hand ran along the length of her legs, nudging them apart as his mouth kept kissing her. When his tongue flicked out, one of her hands grasped his hair. Moans tore from her throat and her hips bucked against him. Ron shifted to hold her hips in place so she couldn't buck her pelvis into his nose.

He had moved beyond her clitoris to along the folds, following a path his fingers had blazed a week earlier. Hermione cried out again and again; she was no longer aware of the sounds coming from her. Was each shockwave an orgasm? Was it just a build-up to something bigger? Would she survive it?

After a particularly primal groan, Ron finally released her. Heart pounding in her ears, breathing erratic, Hermione couldn't move. She felt Ron shift around to lie next to her along the wall. His gentle hands brushed hair from her face and he lightly kissed her temple. His voice was barely above a whisper in her ear.

"You are so beautiful. I love you."

Her eyelids fluttered open to look into his blue eyes. Hermione reasoned that she would never have difficulty conjuring a Patronus ever again.

"I love you, Ron."

He slid his arm under her neck and wrapped the other around her belly to hold her as he always did at night.

"So, I take it you liked that?"

Hermione chuckled lightly, "Understatement of the year." She reached up to stroke the arm wrapped around her middle. "It's been indelibly written across my memory," she whispered, grateful he couldn't see the pink tinge in her cheeks.

Ron kissed her shoulder, keeping his lips against her skin. "Hermione, was wondering- what memory did you use earlier today?"

Her fingers continued to drift along his skin. "It's not a single memory per se. I thought about the way you look at me, when we're together. I feel so… _beautiful_. Loved."

"Dad told us why Patronuses change."

"Your mum told me too. At first I thought 'how can that be, I haven't changed'. But, as I think about it, I realized that I _have_ changed."

Ron whispered into her skin, "How so?"

Hermione breathed deeply. "I used to cling so tightly to logic. But I've had to accept that not everything can be explained by logic. Books don't have all the answers; they're not even necessarily accurate." _Sigh_. "Just a few months ago I couldn't believe in things like 'wand allegiance' or 'Deathly Hallows'." She rolled to look at him. "Or soul mates."

Ron lifted his eyebrows questioningly, hopefully.

"Logic would suggest that I should be with someone more like me."

"Smart."

"I was going to say _academic_, organized, serious." Hermione looked away, "I would be miserable. I need you." She looked back into his eyes. "Without you I'm… not whole. You're the missing parts of me. It's not logical, but… you and I… we're meant for each other. We always have been… soul mates."

Ron said nothing. He stroked back her hair, looking at the parts of her face. At last he spoke, "What do you think it means?"

"What means?"

"You're Patronus; it's still an otter, it just has… pups. What do you think it means?"

Hermione quirked her lips a little and glanced away shyly. "I don't know."

"But you have a theory."

Damn, he did know her well. "Yes, I do."

"And?"

"I think it means… that I want more than one."

It took Ron a moment to process what she said. "But less than seven?"

She smiled, "Yes, less than seven."

Hermione's fingers stroked the stubble on his cheek. She gave him a quick kiss and rolled over to sit up.

"You're not leaving?"

"No, just getting my pajamas."

"Oh, I was kinda hoping you wouldn't."

"You want me to sleep naked?" She looked back at his face; eyebrows lifted, lips pouty. "Yes, that does sound silly when said out loud." His lost-puppy face was going to cause problems in the future. _Sigh_. Hermione picked up the alarm clock to set it and slipped back into bed. Their arms and legs settled into their usual positions.

"This isn't exactly fair; you still have clothes on."

"Ah, yeah. Things go poorly if I don't. You know, there's… chaffing."

"Oh. Yes, I suppose that would be unpleasant."

She closed her eyes and felt the familiar, easy slumber begin to take her.

"Hermione?"

"Humm?"

"I miss you."

Three words, said so frequently, suddenly made her heart clench. "It's getting better. I nearly get through the whole night now."

His arms tightened around her and she felt his lips press into her shoulder. "Good."

*0*

The alarm woke Hermione as the sun was just starting to light the room.

"You're naked."

Her lips formed into a half-smile, half-smirk. "Good morning to you too."

Ron's hands started wandering. "I want to wake up like this every day."

"With a naked woman in your arms?"

"A naked you in my arms."

"Ah." Frankly, she was rather fond of the idea herself. Glancing at the clock Hermione mustered all of her will power. "We really should get up. Before someone comes looking."

"Bugger."

"I know. Believe me, I'd rather stay right here as well."

"All right. Get up then."

Hermione moved to sit up and started looking for her clothes when something occurred to her. "Are you planning on watching me?"

He didn't even attempt to play ignorant. "I was, yes."

"Well, don't"

Ron's brow furrowed, "Why not?"

"You'll see… things…" Her shoulders slumped, "…you've already seen."

"Actually, I haven't seen your bum. I was looking forward to that."

Surely she was supposed to be embarrassed; she was about to parade around naked, in front of her boyfriend. And there was a little heat in her cheeks, but not enough to root her to the spot. Did she really want to expose herself to him?

Well, yes, frankly.

Hermione finally stood and walked to the foot of the bed, where she saw her pajama bottoms had been discarded. She could feel his eyes on her. Caught somewhere between modest and wonton, Hermione stooped down to pick up her clothes. In some strange reverse striptease, she slipped them back on. Topless, she turned to retrieve her vest.

Unexpectedly, she found his eyes locked to hers. As she pulled the top back on, Hermione could hear Ron sitting up. He sat on the edge of the bed and reached out to hold her hips and pull her forward. He used his long nose to bunch up her vest so he could place a kiss on her belly.

"As I expected."

Hermione ran her fingers through his beautiful ginger hair, "What is?"

"Your bum. Fantastic."

An exasperated smile lit her face and she bent down to kiss his lips. Oh yes, she looked forward to getting used to this. "Get dressed. It'll be time for breakfast."

Ron pulled some random tee shirt over his head, "Do you think Mum'll have made bacon?"

Hermione had opened the door and could smell Molly Weasley's cooking wafting up. "Smells like it."

They descended the stairs together. "Best morning ever. You naked in bed _and_ bacon."

* * *

A/N: I promised lemons and a Patronus explanation Hopefully everyone is satisfied with both. There's more to come in this Grangers-at-the-Burrow story thread, so stay tuned. But, since Fall/Winter is always a busy time for me, I make no promises as to _when_ that chapter will be posted. Rest assured, it will be.

The usual tip-of-the-hat to HalfASlug and J.K. Rowling- without whom this story would not be possible.


	19. Family

**An Unconventional Fairytale**: Family

Margot recalled that morning in Australia, when she had awoken as herself after a year of being Monica. Her daughter and her boyfriend were sharing an intimate moment together while making a fry up. It was so… domestic; Margot was loath to disturb it.

That was nearly a month ago. This morning, as she stood in the Burrow kitchen looking out the window, Margot once again caught sight of Hermione and Ron. They were outside with their friends; Ron leaning back against a fence post, Hermione stood between his legs, leaning back into him. His hands rested comfortably low on her hips.

So, the inevitable had happened. Margot wondered if Hermione chose the spell or decided to go with the potion. She thought about the prior evening and if this had anything to do with Hermione's embarrassing moment; if this was the memory that caused her to blush so hard.

According to what Arthur said, the memory had nothing to do with her Patronus changing. Margot had her own suspicions as to that. From what she could gather on the subject, a Patronus was deeply tied to the emotional core of a person and their perception of themselves. Being an only child, Hermione had never seen the need to have more than one child herself. After all these years with the Weasley's, Margot wondered if the reason Hermione's otter had more than one pup was because she herself now wanted more than one.

She also thought about how otter's were from the same family as weasels, which was apparently Arthur's Patronus, and how 'weasel' and 'Weasley' were closely related. It all suggested something cosmic and predestined- and Margot found herself sighing in that schoolgirl way she did whenever presented with something so very romantic. Warren would tell her she was being silly, and then kiss her as if to say he wouldn't have her any other way.

"It _is_ wonderful to see them together at last," Molly broke into Margot's' reverie.

The two mothers were tidying up the kitchen after breakfast; Margot had insisted on helping. Arthur and Warren had trundled off to the shed to investigate Muggle technology and they had shooed the kids outside to enjoy the beautiful morning.

"Indeed."

Molly set a stack of plates next to the sink. With a quick swish of her wand, one-by-one they started dunking into the soapy water as the brush scrubbed them clean. "I admit, the boy was making me nervous there for a while. Thought I was going to have to spell it out for him. But then I saw them dancing at Bill's wedding and I knew he had finally found his way."

They both enjoyed the view of their children in love, no longer with the weight of the world upon them.

"I used to worry about Hermione," Margot sighed. "I was always proud of her- so intelligent, so strong. But, young men are often so… intimidated by intelligent women." She laughed lightly. "Ron doesn't seem the least bit intimidated."

Molly shared her laughter. "I think he's more scared of her wand than her mind. But that's as it should be."

Margot looked sidelong at Molly. There was no surprise as to why Ron wasn't put off by strong-willed women- he was raised by one. "Warren and I appreciate you having us over; letting us stay in your home. We've had a wonderful time."

"Oh, no trouble at all. I was just telling Arthur this morning, we should have done this ages ago."

"Well, things weren't quite as certain as they are now. Something tells me we're going to be seeing a lot more of one another from here on out."

"You don't know how happy that makes me. If I could have picked anyone for my son it would have been Hermione. She's good for him."

Margot smiled at the compliment. She had always assumed Molly and Arthur approved of Hermione, but it was still nice to hear it. "Warren took a little convincing. But you know fathers and their daughters. It wasn't anything against Ron; he just had to accept that his little girl was grown up." She smiled at the memory.

She and Warren had been discussing their daughter and her boyfriend. "Warren, you do realize 'that boy' is going to be your son-in-law?' His shoulders had slumped and he puffed out a pouty "yes." In the end, he admitted that Ron was a good sort and Hermione seemed quite happy with him and that it didn't really matter because she was going to do whatever she wanted anyway. "That's not true. You're still her father and if you had concerns about her choice she'd listen to you. You're still her first love." Like father, like daughter; for all their logic, they could be quite irrational when put out.

"Well, that and I had to convince him that their bickering equals happiness," Margot added. "It's when they're _not_ bickering that we need be worried."

"Isn't that the truth?" Molly wiped off her hands and looked around. "Looks like we're all done in here. Why don't you go on out and I'll join you in just a bit?"

"Sounds good." Margot hung her towel over the hook and joined the kids outside.

"Now if only you could fly a broom, Hermione, we could play a decent game," George was saying.

"But who would be the third on our team?" Ginny asked.

"I'm standing right here." Percy looked put out.

Ginny looked at him, "But you hate Quidditch."

"I don't hate it," replied Percy. "I just didn't like how it distracted some people from their studies."

"Oh yes, and look at how we turned out." George glanced skyward. "Hear that Fred, all that fooling around lead us down the path to ruin."

Percy tried not to look exasperated, "That's not what I meant."

George walked to his older brother and threw his arm over Percy's shoulders. "Oh no. Merlin knows we'll never find success playing pranks and skiving off classwork." The mirth on George's face betrayed his attempt at garnering sympathy. "What hope do a couple of chaps with intricate charms experience and detailed knowledge of potions have? If only we could _apply_ that somehow. If only there was a market for that sort of thing."

Percy stood, humorless, as George slowly broke down into fits of laughter. Everyone else finally cracked as well. It had become George's habit to comment to Fred. It wasn't as if he was waiting for an answer; George knew full well that one wasn't forthcoming. He just believed, as everyone else did, that Fred was listening; that while they couldn't hear him, Fred was still very much a part of their lives.

George, one hand on his brother's shoulder for support, was still laughing. "I'd forgotten how much I LOVE taking the mickey out of you, Perce."

No longer able to remain stoic, Percy smiled. "Then I must have lost my mind, because I miss it too."

After yesterday and this morning, Margot was starting to understand the unique family dynamic that was the Weasley's. Hermione had tried to explain it over the years, but it was something that you had to experience. 'The Weasley Experience'- perhaps she could sell tickets.

"Ron tells us that you've reopened the shop, George," Margot said when the laughter had slowed. "How's that going?"

George wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. "Quite well. People are always looking for a good laugh. Still waiting for some stock to come in, but we'll get there in time for school start."

"So there was no trouble? Hermione said you had to abandon it for some time."

"No, everything was fine. Not for lack of trying, mind you. Death Eaters did try to get in, but they learned very quickly not to try to break into a joke shop."

Everyone chuckled. "Yes, I imagine that would be difficult. I would love to see it sometime."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Ah, well, just so long as someone stays with you. And watch where you step. And don't touch anything."

George took Margot's hand in his. "Hermione, do you think I would let anything happen to your charming mother?"

She responded with an arched eyebrow.

He placed a hand to his heart. "On my brother's life, I promise not to let anything untoward happen to you."

Hermione was quick to fire back, "Which brother?"

George gave Hermione a sly grin and sighed. "You sure about her, Ron? You'll never get away with anything?"

Ron just laughed and shrugged. "When have I ever? Hasn't stopped me."

Hermione tipped her head back to look up at Ron from her place leaning against him. "I like to think I've been something of a positive influence on you."

"Oh you have. Whenever I'm about to do something questionable, I can hear your voice in my head going on about breaking rules and how long detention will be if we get caught."

Harry started chortling, "Yeah, and then you go off and do it anyway."

"Well, yeah. But I _do_ hear your voice telling me not to." Ron smiled down at her. "That's got to count for something."

Hermione's eyes were tight shut and lips pursed in a futile attempt not to laugh. In the end, she looked up at Ron's innocently guilty face and smiled. "Good to know I haven't just been shouting at the wind."

Margot felt her heart warm at the look of affection Ron gave her daughter. "So, what's this I hear about Quidditch? Are you going to play? I would love to watch."

George spoke up again, "We could play pairs. Perce can referee."

"As if any of you would listen to me."

George started walking to the broom shed, "We wouldn't but, you can still referee."

Percy shook his head, "I'll just watch, thank you."

Molly joined them in time to walk down past the orchard to where they had played Quidditch since they were young children.

Hermione explained the positions and game play to her mother, though it was a bit confusing with only two players on each side and a lack of Snitch. Margot managed to get the hang of it fairly quickly and wondered what a full match would look like. Fourteen players zipping around a pitch, multiple balls in the air- it must be quite the spectacle.

"What's it like, flying on a broom?"

Hermione looked at her mother, eyebrow quirked. "You know I don't fly."

Margot gave her an I'm-your-mother smile, "But you've been up with Ron. What's it like?"

Hermione glanced away shyly, her cheeks tingeing pink, "Well, it can be quite pleasant- floating on the air. A little disconcerting at first- you are just sitting on a broom. But, once you get used to it, it's quite nice."

"Do you think Ron would take me around?"

Hermione snapped back, "Pardon?"

Margot smiled at her stunned expression. "Do you think he'd take me for a little fly around?"

"Ah, sure. I don't see why not."

"Don't look so surprised. Before I met your father I was seeing a boy with a motorbike." Margot looked off dreamily. "I had so much fun hanging on the back for drives around the countryside."

Hermione continued to look at her as if she'd grown two heads.

Margot chuckled, lightly. "Let's just say you came by your sense of adventure naturally." She thought she heard Hermione mutter something about "if you say so."

The pick-up match ended with George and Ron winning and Ginny lamenting what a horrible keeper Harry made.

Ron patted his friend on the back, "And that's why you don't have two seekers on a team. Neither of you is content to mind the hoops."

"Ron?"

He turned to Margot who had gotten up from the lawn. "Yeah?"

"I was wondering- would you be so kind as to take me around on your broom for a few laps?"

Eyes wide as if caught in headlamps, Ron stammered, "Ah, yeah. Sure."

Margot plowed on, "Wonderful. Hermione tells me you're very considerate and since I can't do this myself, I'll need a pilot."

Ron looked to Hermione, unsure. She smiled back to him and nodded. Ron glanced around for a moment, shrugged and brought the broom up to mount it.

"You can sit behind me. Put your feet on the inside of the pegs."

Margot did as instructed and rested her hands on Ron's shoulders. Looking down to check her feet, she realized that Ron had already lifted his own and they were now hovering above the ground.

"Oh my."

"Still want to go?"

"Absolutely!"

Ron took off, slowly circling the makeshift pitch. Margot, once she got a feel for sitting on a broom, looked around her and enjoyed the feel of the summer air blowing past.

"This thing does go faster, yes?"

Ron double-took a glance back and saw Margot was serious. "Really? Faster?"

Margot got a better grip by holding Ron's waist. "Really. Faster."

"All right. Just scream when you want me to stop."

Ron leaned forward and took off like a shot. Margot let out a whoop and Ron slowed to check on her. "I'm fine! Go!"

He smiled and laughed. He took off again, zipping them between trees. As he took them past the spectators, Margot was certain she saw a part-worried, part-shocked look on Hermione's face. They flew back towards the house and around the shed before going back to join the others.

Margot dismounted and turned back to Ron. "That was just wonderful! Thank you, Ron." She smoothed her hair back. "Oh, my hair probably looks a fright now. No matter, I can fix it."

She received looks of appreciation from the others and hoped that meant she'd be the favourite in-law at future family events. Hermione could only smile and shake her head. "Enjoyed yourself then?"

Margot put her arm around Hermione's shoulders. "Delightful. I certainly see the allure." Looking back she saw Warren and Arthur making their way to join them. As she looked from Warren to Ron, she admitted that the 'allure' for Hermione probably wasn't the flying part.

"We were in the shed and heard a bit of commotion," Arthur called out. "Having races?"

Molly was grinning. "Not exactly. Ron took Margot for a bit of a fly."

Warren looked at his wife of twenty-three years. "That was you hollering? I knew you still had a thing for that chap with the motorbike."

Margot embraced her husband. "It wasn't the 'chap'; it was the motorbike." She kissed him. "And since it's frowned upon to marry inanimate objects…"

Warren frowned down at her, "Saying you'd chuck me for a motorbike?"

Margot laughed. "As I was saying- I was fortunate to find a 'chap' who didn't _need_ a motorbike."

There was a moment of silence and then, "Get a room."

Everyone broke into laughter and looked at George who was giving his best 'who, me?' look.

With everyone in such good spirits around her, Margot felt a sense of calm come over her. If this was to become her daughter's family, she certainly couldn't have chosen a better one.

* * *

A/N: Yes, I'm aware Ginny was a Chaser and only filled in as seeker for Harry during sixth year. But she DID play seeker and she WAS brilliant at it- so Ron's comment stands.

Just FYI- I'll be on vacation all next week and, to be honest, I'm not set on what the next chapter will be about so I have to sort that. Long and short of it- I'm not sure when the next chapter will happen, but certainly not until Halloween at best. I'm telling you all this so no one panics- I'm not done yet. There are too many bits forthcoming that I want to write about to leave now.

This chapter needed quite of bit of Brit-speak correction- which is why I'm grateful to have a proper English beta. Last thing I'd want is for everyone to start speaking American; how dreadful would that be? For those who haven't been paying attention, my proper English beta is HalfASlug. Thank her by going to read her stuff- it's really fantastic. Angsty, but fantastic.

If I were to make any money off this fan fiction, I would have to change all the names, remove any reference to magic and get a lot more creative with uses for broomsticks.


	20. The Future, and all that

**An Unconventional Fairytale: **The Future, and all that

Bloody rain.

Ron stood at his bedroom window and watched as the rain washed away his plans to take Hermione to their tree. It hadn't been the bacon sandwiches he was looking forward to; Hermione said she wanted to shag- _make love_ for the first time out there. Girls really could be barmy sometimes. Whatever, he didn't care. Or at least he hadn't cared until the rain foiled his plans.

He was surprised he wasn't more nervous. But then, they'd done pretty much everything else, so it was really just a technicality at this point. But dammit, he was looking forward to that technicality all week. Every day this week he looked outside from the shop to see blue skies, his anticipation building. Finally, Thursday arrives and he wakes to English weather giving him the middle finger.

"Fuck."

"Don't be so happy to see me."

Ron whirled around to the bright center of his universe. "You're here."

"Of course. If I let a little rain keep me away I'd never be here."

She crossed to him and easily fit into his arms, standing on her toes to lift her lips closer to his. She tasted like cinnamon scone.

"I see mum didn't let you pass without feeding you."

"Yes, apparently I'm still too thin."

"You're not too bad," he replied, his hands circling her waist. "I can still make out a rib or two, but you're much better than a couple months ago. I'm not afraid of snapping you in half anymore."

"Yes, well, I've learned my lesson. Always remember to plan for food."

Hermione laid her head on his chest and he enjoyed the feel and smell of her. She really _had_ become too thin while they were on the run. They all had, but it showed on her much more having already been so thin to begin with.

"I had plans for today," Ron mumbled into her hair.

"Did they involve a blanket and tree?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry, love, but it doesn't matter." Hermione looked away, "There wouldn't have been much more than eating anyway."

Confusion crossed his face. "Why not?"

"Well, let's say that weight isn't the only thing I finally got back."

He was still confused.

She looked at him before finally formulating her answer. "Well, it's 'that time of the month'."

"Time for what?"

Hermione looked exasperated at him. "You know, how girls, once a month..."

"Oh! _That_ time. You confused me with the 'finally' comment." He looked down at her, worried. "What do you mean 'finally'?"

Hermione looked out the window to some faraway place. "Well, sometimes, if a woman is under too much stress or not eating right, her body will just... stop."

"Stop?"

"Yes. She'll stop ovulating and..."

"Yours stopped?"

She nodded.

"That's not good, is it?" Worry creased his face.

"Not really. It's a survival mechanism. But after a couple of months of eating properly and lately no stress, it's back." She sighed. "I've never been so happy to have cramps."

"Well, good." Ron tightened his arms around her. "Not the cramps thing, but that you're back to normal. Do the cramps hurt much?"

"They can, but there's a potion for it." Hermione quirked her lips at him, "Didn't think you'd be interested in 'female issues'?"

"Well, I'm not. But I figure I'm gonna learn more than I want to eventually, so I might as well start now."

Hermione shook her head and gave him a wry smile. "I've finally got you to want to learn and you're not going back to school. There's irony in there somewhere." Hermione sighed and sat on his bed.

He joined her and wrapped her in his arms. "If I had known there was a class on 'Hermione' I would have signed up years ago. As it is, I just found out about it a month ago. Think I'm doing pretty good so far." He looked at her expectantly.

Thinking about the thoroughly naughty things they'd done over the last few weeks made her blush. "Yes, well, I've always known you could accomplish anything you set your mind to."

His hand brushed her hair back over her shoulder, exposing her neck. Ron noted she had taken to wearing shirts with lower necklines. He leaned down to kiss her neck. "So, I'm doing well?"

"So far."

She smelled like vanilla- _kiss-_ and strawberry. "Anything I should practice more? Perhaps I need tutoring?"

Her fingers slipped into his hair to hold him. "You could... Oh. Maybe... Ah. Just... just don't stop."

His words were murmured into her skin, "Yes, ma'am." As he kissed and sucked his way along her neck and jaw, he felt her lay back onto his bed, pulling him over her. Maybe he couldn't get into her knickers today, but there were plenty of other fun places on her body. He leaned back just enough to push her top up so he could run a line of kisses down her belly. Ron looked up at her and felt his breath catch. She was laid back, hair splayed out on his pillow, eyes closed and lips parted in bliss. You'd think he'd be used to this by now, but he still had trouble accepting that Hermione was his.

Not like a possession- bloody hell, she'd hex him if she ever believed he thought that way. No, 'his' as in he was the lucky bloke she trusted enough to see her like this, to do these things to her. She let him see her at her most vulnerable. She trusted him to keep her safe. Well, that settled it then.

For the last couple of weeks he'd been trying to decide his future. He had a good thing going with George at the shop, and Ron could see himself staying there as is brother's new partner. But he also thought about going to Auror academy in the autumn. Sure, he'd gotten pretty good this last year at defensive spells and such, but too many times it wasn't enough. Even if he didn't do it forever, at least he'd learn how to protect Hermione properly.

"Ron?"

She had lifted her head to look at him, poised over her belly where he had stopped and got lost in thought.

"What part of 'don't stop' are you having trouble with?"

He blinked and refocused on her. "Sorry, just... I just figured out what I want to do."

Hermione leaned back on her elbows and tipped her head. "Do?"

There was something odd about having this conversation leaning over her exposed belly while Hermione lay back on his bed, but that didn't stop Ron.

"Well, I've been thinking lately, about what I want to do with my life." Ron sat back on the bed, resting his hand on her calf. "I've been thinking about what I want to do, you know, as a career." He looked up at her, a little hesitant. "I want to apply to Auror academy."

"You want to be an Auror?"

He took a deep breath. "Yeah."

Her eyes looked down, to the side. "Oh."

"What? You don't think I can?"

"No!" She sat up to touch his cheek. "No, quite the contrary, I know you'd be brilliant. It's just..." She looked away. Her voice was small. "I didn't think it was something you still wanted."

"Well, at first I thought maybe I wanted to do it because Harry does. And maybe that was true, but I've thought about it and it's something I want to do. For my own reasons." He took her hand. "Now, I'll probably apply where Harry does, because… well, you know. But he's not the reason I want to do this."

He looked deep into her eyes, willing her to understand without him having to say it out loud. Her fingers traced the lines of his face, settling on his lips.

"It's dangerous."

"Yeah."

"I'll worry about you." She looked everywhere on his face but couldn't look into his eyes.

"Hermione, if you don't want me to do this..."

"I didn't say that." She took his face in her hands, "You'll go to academy, learn everything you can and be brilliant. I know you will."

"Will it keep you from worrying?"

"No. But you'll always come home to me."

Her eyes were glassy, but he saw the truth behind them. She believed in him. She honestly believed he would be a good Auror. 'Brilliant' was her word. Well then, if Hermione said it, then it must be true.

Ron took her hand where it rested on his cheek, his thumb stroking the backside. "Thank you."

"For?"

"Everything. Believing in me. Letting me do this."

"Ron." She kissed him gently. "I've always believed in you. I know I didn't say it much... at all, but it's true." Her hand stroked from his cheek to over his heart. "I just couldn't fathom how a person who clearly had talent also had no apparent interest in learning how to use it. Why do you think I bothered to help you so much?"

"Pity?"

She released a laugh. "I kept hoping that if I helped get the paperwork out of the way you'd focus on the application. And you did. 'Es' in Potions, Charms and Defense- you always did well in the classes that were less theory."

"Yeah, well, I'm not going to have you at Auror academy. I'm gonna have to get by on my own."

"And you will, because this is something you want. Something you've chosen."

In that moment Ron knew that he would do well. Maybe not 'Hermione' well, but he'd pass his classes and training because no matter how hard or boring it became, he'd think about the way she was looking at him in this moment and his resolve would strengthen. He would do it for her.

"At the very least it will distract me from the fact you're at Hogwarts."

Hermione looked at him sadly. "True."

"I'm gonna miss you."

She shook her head to ward off the thought. "That's still months away, let's not think about that. How are things at the shop? Have you told George your plans?"

"Seeing as I sorted it out just now- no, I haven't told him. But I will. Otherwise, things are good. Most of the shop is back to full stock. I've been helping him sort out some ideas he and Fred came up with while hiding."

She sat up to take interest. "Like what?"

"It was an idea for creating a distraction for Death Eaters. It's a small ball that when it hits a wall or the floor conjures the illusion of a person generally misbehaving and causing trouble. We're going to call then 'Detention Decoys'. The idea is the decoy is doing something worse than you were and Flich will run off after it while you slip away."

Hermione was giving him her 'eyebrow of disapproval.'

"What?"

"Filch. Or prefects you mean."

"Yeah, them too."

The eyebrow was still there.

"What?"

She added the glare of "what the hell are you thinking?"

And it dawned on him. "We'll, think of it this way. As Head Girl, you'll know what to look for now."

Hermione's eyes pinched shut. "We don't know that Professor McGonagall will make me Head Girl. I may have missed my chance."

"Don't be silly, of course you'll be."

She gave him a shy smile. "That's not the point."

"Oh, I know the point and I also know Detention Decoys will sell like mad."

Hermione shook her head. "Working on anything else? That won't help students get out of their studies?"

"Ah... oh, actually, there is something else." Ron started glancing around nervously. "See, George has been staying here at night; I don't think he likes being alone, you know. So, he asked me if I want to move into Fred's old flat."

Hermione's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "What did you tell him?"

"I thought about it and I told him I didn't just want to live in Fred's old place. Frankly, that's kinda creepy. So I said we'd let the family pick anything of his they wanted to keep, and whatever was left would go to the Ministry- they're collecting for families who lost their homes and whatever during the war."

"He agreed?"

"Yeah. Like I said, even if it's across the landing, I think he would feel better having someone there."

"That's wonderful, Ron. And you can make the place your own."

"Yeah, well, sort of." Ron looked around again.

Hermione's head tilted in question. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I was wondering... I'd understand if you didn't. So don't feel like you have to..."

She placed her hand on his thigh. "Ron, you haven't even asked me whatever it is yet."

"Right." Ron took a deep breath. "Hermione, I was wondering, if you'd want to..." _Sigh. _"I'd rather it be our flat. If you want."

She froze for a moment, lips parted in silent shock. "Move in together?"

His face was hopeful. "Yeah."

"Our flat."

Ron smiled at her, remembering something she told him not too long ago, "Our bed."

She looked into his hopeful eyes and knew the answer.

"Yes."

His grin was from ear to ear. "Wicked."

They smiled and their lips crashed together to seal the deal. He pulled back a bit, worried. "Will your parents be okay with it?"

"Mum yes. Dad, well, he'll come around."

Ron didn't look convinced.

"I happen to know that he and Mum lived together before they were married, so unless he wants to be a hypocrite, he'll accept it."

He felt a little better about it. "All right. I don't want there to be any trouble."

Hermione shook her head, "There won't be."

"I can't get a read on Mum though. Something tells me she won't be happy, but she won't be angry either. Hard to say."

She nodded in agreement. "She's made a few comments to me that make me think the same thing."

Ron perked up at her confirmation. "So, I'll need your help, getting the place ready."

"Of course! I can't wait."

"It's not very big, just two rooms. But it's got a serviceable kitchen and bath of its own."

Her smile matched his. "Doesn't matter. It will be ours."

"Ours. I like the sound of that." As he looked into her eyes, shining with excitement, Ron could feel the pull towards her. They'd talked about their future again and it didn't frighten him. Now that they had an actual plan, he could feel his own excitement building. A future with Hermione. The draw towards her lips was a near-physical thing.

As if on cue, footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs. Hermione adjusted her top and they sat very properly upon the bed.

"Thought for sure we'd catch you snogging! Glad I didn't take that bet." Ginny flopped down on the camp bed which was still set up. Harry, shaking his head in amusement, sat next to her.

Hermione looked at her incredulously. "You take bets over us?"

Ginny looked back sympathetically. "Hermione, we've been taking bets since the Yule Ball. Did you really think that row went unnoticed?"

"Well, I had hoped..."

Harry looked at Ginny with a look of mock hurt. "Why didn't I get to take part in this betting?"

She just shrugged. "It was decided you were too close and had unfair advantage. I tried to tell everyone you weren't that observant, but they didn't listen."

Harry looked to the room in general. "I think I'm supposed to be offended."

Everyone shared a good laugh yet no one tried to correct Ginny. It was an unstated fact that Harry typically had more important things to think about than whether or not his best friends would ever manage to get out of their own way long enough to realize they fancied each other. Harry was usually just happy when they were speaking to each other and not in a row.

So it was Ginny who noticed the shy looks and smiles between her brother and his girlfriend. "What's up? Spill."

Ron looked at her. "Don't know what you mean."

"You two. The shy glances, all smiles, and she's blushing- you two were snogging, weren't you?"

Hermione very formally corrected her. "There may have been some kissing, but earlier- not when you came up." Again, Hermione and Ron shared a look. "Might as well tell them."

Ron shrugged in agreement. "George offered me the other flat. And we're going to take it."

Harry and Ginny replied in unison. "We?"

Hermione clasped her hand in Ron's. "Yes. We."

Ginny didn't look so sure. "Mum's gonna rupture something."

Ron shook his head. "I think she'll be all right. Hermione's practically family anyway."

"Kids!" They could hear the woman in question from down below. "Lunch!"

Hermione sighed. "No time like the present."

Everyone rose to go downstairs. Ron lingered back and took Hermione's hand in his. She looked up at his nervous expression. "Can it wait until after we eat?"

* * *

A/N: I promised I'd return! As predicted, life has been busy and is looking like it won't let up. Long and short- updates will continue to be sporadic. But have no fear, they will continue.

I have to hang my head in public shame because I wrote 'Mom' instead of 'Mum' (twice!) HalfASlug may never forgive me. In fact, my Honorary British Person award was granted and then revoked within the same chapter. Ah, well- I'll keep trying.

J.K. Rowling was granted Honorary Goddess of the Universe. It has not been revoked.


	21. Dreams Made Manifest

**An Unconventional Fairytale: Dreams Made Manifest**

The sunlight filtered down through the leaves of the oak tree and dappled their skin as a summer breeze drifted across their bodies, cooling them. Hermione's romantic daydream had been the same every time; except this time, it was real.

*0*

When she had awoken that morning, Hermione could feel the butterflies in her stomach spring to flight. The sun was shining. And, unlike the last time she went to the Burrow to spend the day with Ron, there was nothing impeding them.

Another positive development was that over the last week, Hermione had started sleeping through the entire night. Well, there were a few times she was startled awake but, she was always able to roll over and return to sleep. She wouldn't go so far as to say her demons had been defeated but she was well on her way.

Hermione slipped a tee shirt over her vest and wandered down the hall to the bathroom. As she looked at her reflection in the mirror, she couldn't help but try to picture the girl who stood here seven years prior. That girl had no idea what her future held, and never could have predicted it. That future, now past, flew in the face of the logic the girl had held so dear.

Not only was that little girl gone but also Hermione had trouble recalling her own image from a year ago. "Water under the bridge," her Auntie would say. No use lamenting what couldn't be recovered. Hermione stopped trying to recall her past, and thought forward to her future. Whenever she thought about futures possible, there was always one constant- Ron.

In every future she could conceive, he was there, saying something outrageous that would make her laugh. To ponder a future without him was unthinkable. She already knew what that sort of future held.

During those two months he was gone last year, Hermione learned some valuable things about herself. She learned that despite the misery she felt, his loss did not break her. She was still functional. It was then she also realized just how much she needed Ron. His absence felt exactly like when she was around Dementors- cold and empty, as if there would never be any joy again.

When he returned, despite her anger towards him, Hermione felt better. The sound of his voice, the smell of him, lifted her spirits and hope returned to her. She should have forgiven him sooner. In her heart she had (she knew full well how evil that locket could be). But after being angry for so long, she couldn't figure out how to _not_ be. How to bring it up? What to say?

Hermione shuddered as she remembered thinking at the time that the only way she and Ron had ever found forgiveness was when one of them was seriously injured (the last being Ron's poisoning). Two days later was when they were captured.

Even at Shell Cottage, she had trouble finding the words and she hoped that actions would speak louder. Each night as he waited for her, Hermione didn't protest- she just crawled into bed and took his hand without hesitation. She didn't argue when he would jump to help her with dishes or fetching tea.

Ron had said he knew he had made a mistake as soon as he had apparated away. With each day after his return, he proved that he had learned that lesson. He was swiftly becoming the person she had always believed he could be; concern of the house elves was just the last straw. Her need to kiss him had been building for the better part of the month.

Today was just another step along their path together.

So why was her stomach doing cartwheels?

Nerves? Maybe. Though considering all they'd already done it didn't seem likely. Fear? A little bit. There was the real possibility it would hurt. There was also the possibility it wouldn't due to a horse riding incident when she was fourteen (her mare unexpectedly started trotting).

Most likely her butterflies were a result of _knowing_. Previously, their intimacy was spontaneous; today she knew exactly what would happen. They were going to make love. Knowing what was coming made her blush and turn away from the mirror. There was no doubting it would happen; being with Ron was one of the few absolutes in her life right now.

Hermione honestly thought it would have been last week- until she woke to rain and the feeling as if someone was reaching through her gut to throttle her spine. The relief of having her body back on course outweighed the disappointment.

She finished brushing her teeth and returned to her room. Never had Hermione taken such care in selecting her clothes than during the last month. She picked a sundress with a higher neckline; Hermione didn't want to use concealer on her curse scar today. She recalled the words he said to her in Australia: _"Don't hide from me." _If today was going to be the day she gave him her virginity, she didn't want to hide any part of herself.

Hermione opened a decorated box to reveal a bottle and spoon. She measured out some of the amber liquid and swallowed it down with a slight frown. The peppermint flavour helped. Shortly after returning from Australia, Hermione had made a trip to Diagon Alley to collect some potion supplies. She had been taking a spoonful every morning since- just in case she and Ron became caught up in the moment.

Tucked in the back of her undergarment drawer were a matched set of satin and lace bra and knickers. They were a pale pink; her other bras and pants were cotton and white- practical, like Hermione. Wearing the pink set made her feel a bit frilly, feminine. Hermione had bought them to wear under her dress for Bill & Fleur's wedding. They hadn't seen daylight since.

She wore them today; it seemed apropos.

Hermione slipped on the dress and ran her fingers through her hair. A brush would just get tangled, and Ron insisted he liked her hair wild and free. Pulling the stopper off the glass perfume bottle, she dabbed a bit of the vanilla and strawberry fragrance along her neck. It was an _unusual_ combination, but diluting it a bit helped tone it down to something pleasant. She had been wearing it since the Christmas Ron gave it to her, but it was likely that, while she could smell it, she hadn't used enough for anyone else to.

The glass bottle had spent the last year in the Burrow attic, safe and sound. Hermione was thankful she had decided to pack it and not just leave it in her room since it would have been lost. She wondered if Ron realized what the scent was; he had certainly smelled it on her when he inhaled along her neck but he hadn't said anything. Maybe she should tell him- let him know.

With one last look in the mirror, Hermione left her room to join her parents for breakfast before they left for the office and she to the Burrow.

*0*

Finally.

The sun was out, Ron had the day off and Hermione was due anytime. He had the blanket packed in the rucksack and Mum promised to make some sandwiches for them to picnic. He was thankful that Mum never asked too many questions- that meant he didn't have to lie to her. It was possible she suspected they more-than-ate-lunch during their getaways. It was also possible she didn't want to know so she didn't ask.

In an odd twist, Pigwidgeon quietly perched in his cage and it was Ron flitting around the room madly. He refused to repack the rucksack yet again, and his breath couldn't be any fresher. _When the hell will she get here?_

To think, a year ago he was reading a book to learn how to charm her. And not a month ago he was reading a book on how to make her come. Ron looked out the window to the orchard beyond. Were they taking things too fast? They'd only been together a month. Just over but still. Why did it feel like he'd been waiting forever?

_Well, three years anyway. _

_Let's be honest, four. _

_All right, five. _

_At least four. _

_Seven - since the moment they met._

Ron remembered the moment. All that hair… Miss Bossy had to come in at that moment, didn't she? He was such an idiot thinking the twins had taught him an actual spell. _Sunshine, Daisy_- honestly. _Sigh._ If someone had told him, all those years ago, "be nice to that girl- you're going to spend the rest of your life with her," he wasn't sure if his eleven-year-old self would have laughed or tried to punch that someone in the teeth.

_The rest of his life_. Bloody hell, he was only eighteen and here he was thinking about spending the rest of his life with Hermione. Provided things go well, the rest of his life was going to be a long time, a long time with one person. And yet, here he was, thinking just that. They were going to grow old together. He heard a door open outside and looked down to see his father leaving for the day. Dad gave Mum a kiss and hug goodbye before heading to the gate to disapparate to the Ministry. That was what Ron wanted. He wanted to grow old with Hermione- like his parents.

"What's with the grin?"

Ron turned and his smile widened. "Nothing."

Hermione slipped into his arms. "I doubt that. What were you thinking about?"

"Must you know everything?"

"Yes."

He kissed her on the lips. "Can't a man have a few thoughts of his own?"

She smiled sweetly up at him, "No."

Ron good-naturedly shook his head. "Well, if you must know, I was thinking about you getting old."

Hermione's eyes shot open. "Me? Getting old? This made you smile."

"Yes." He brought his eyes closer to level with hers. "I was thinking about how much I was looking forward to being there when it happened."

Her bright, smiling face froze. In that moment her lips parted and eyes became glassy in adoration.

"I've done it again, haven't I?" He gave her a serious look. "I've said something good again."

Hermione nodded at him.

"I'm not even trying to. It just comes out." Ron got a determined look on his face. "If only I could harness this power… I'd never put my foot in my mouth again."

She laughed at his dilemma and gave him a sympathetic look. "You never know, you just might."

Ron smiled. "Until then, I better keep my feet clean."

Hermione chuckled again. "I think I'm looking forward to seeing you grow old as well."

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

Ron let her go to retrieve the rucksack. "Well, if we're going to grow old together, we need to keep our health up. Shall we lunch?"

*0*

The sandwiches were slowly consumed as they caught up on the week's activities.

"It took Mum a while, but she found some of Fred's things she wanted to keep."

Hermione gave him a look of sympathy. "It must be so hard for her."

"Yeah." Ron rubbed the back of his neck. "There was lots of hugging that night. It got to be a bit much, but no one was going to stop her." He shrugged, "If fawning over the rest of us helps her deal with loosing Fred then so be it."

Hermione looked out over the field. "I can't imagine what it must feel like; to lose a child." She looked down, playing with the folds of her dress. "If he had been her only child, I think losing him would have destroyed her. As it is, having six other children must buffer the worst of it. She loves you all so much- she has so much to live for."

"Saying you want more than two now?" he asked with a smirk.

"I did not." She replied, shaking her head. "I just said there are benefits." Hermione blushed and looked down, "I'm rather keen on the two idea."

"Two little, bushy haired bookworms."

"Ginger haired, freckled bookworms, thank you."

His reply consisted of looking deep into her eyes and smiling. Ron caressed the side of her face with his fingers and her eyes slipped closed as a sigh escaped her lips.

His lips pressed a kiss into her top lip and then her bottom. She kept her eyes closed as he continued to kiss his way around her face, slow and tender. When he returned to her lips, Hermione joined in and kissed him back. Each time the kiss deepened. Ron's hands slipped into her hair, hers clutched his shoulders. They shifted so that she could straddle his legs.

Tongues entered the mix and someone moaned. Hermione couldn't be sure whom. She did know that she wanted more. Reluctant to release his lips, she did for as long as it took to divest him of his shirt. So many freckles, surely she hadn't kissed them all yet. Someday she would have. Someday she'd be able to draw a map from memory. His hands had found their way to her bum and were squeezing. The familiar coil was slowly tightening and this time there would be no stopping short.

Merlin, he was sucking her tongue. Hermione would swear there was a nerve that traveled from her mouth to between her legs. Another moan- definitely from her this time. His hands were under her skirt, playing along the edge of her knickers. With considerable will, she sat back and looked into his eyes. She saw so much love there, and maybe a bit of awe. Hermione lifted her arms and Ron obliged by removing her dress.

"Pink."

Kneeling over his lap in naught but her underthings, Hermione didn't even blush. "Yeah."

"I like them."

"They're very girly."

"As was pointed out to me some years ago, you _are_ a girl." His eyes drifted to her chest. "Yes, indeed. Definitely a girl."

"Was there some concern otherwise?"

His face lit with amusement. "No. Just, I'm rather fond of your girly bits."

"Just the girly bits?"

"The other bits are good too. But right now, I'm more concerned with the girly bits that are covered by pink lacy things and what I want to do with them next."

"Well, don't let me keep you."

Ron let out a chuckle as he leaned forward to place a kiss between her breasts. His hands cupped her as he continued to place kisses just above the top edge of her bra. Hermione let her eyes close again and her head dropped back. His touch felt so good. His mouth journeyed up her chest to latch onto her collar bone- the spot where he had made her orgasm the first time. Her fingers slipped into his hair as he sucked on that spot. While mild, she felt herself shudder in pleasure. Ron grinned up at her and she smiled in return.

She pushed forward to start kissing his mouth again. There was a snap and her bra was loose. Not breaking from their kiss, Hermione arched her back to remove it before pressing her chest into his again. Ron ran his hands up and down her bare back- from her neck to her bottom. He lay back onto the blanket and pulled her with him. Hermione left his mouth and began kissing her way down his neck to his chest, connecting the dots again. Her fingers drifted over his nipples and he shuddered.

She attempted to unfasten his trousers without letting up her kissing, but struggled. Hermione could hear Ron let out a chuckle before helping her out. She shuffled back and to one side and pulled his trousers down. Setting them aside, she looked back and noted the considerable bulge in his pants.

Ron shrugged a bit, "Sorry."

"Why? Isn't that the point? What have I been doing if not arousing you?"

"Well, not sorry then."

Hermione crawled back up his body to kiss his lips. "Good." She couldn't help but smirk when he let out a gasp as she grasped his erection.

"So, I've read that- at least for the first time- that, well, for men, getting the first one _out of the way_ can sometimes help him last longer the second time."

"So, you want to get me off now so that maybe I'll last longer when we actually…"

"That's the idea."

Ron's breathing had started to quicken and his pupils had dilated to near black. "Sure. Worth a go."

Hermione didn't hesitate to pull off his pants. _My word. That's actually supposed to fit?_ Her fingers wrapped around the base of his penis and she licked the top as she had once before. His gasping groans almost sounded painful, but she knew that wasn't the case. Now that she had a better idea of what to expect, she sealed her lips around the top and swirled her tongue over the tip. His body tensed, but she was able to pump her hand several times before his hips pushed forward. Ready for him, she used her tongue to keep from gaging before sitting back.

Curious, she swallowed and was immediately grateful Ron had his eyes closed as he was sprawled out, chest heaving. Hermione didn't want him to get the wrong idea by the foul-taste look on her face. _Well, answers that question. No, thank you._

She leaned over him to take a drink of butterbeer.

"Fuck. That is fucking amazing."

She set the bottle down and started to move back when Ron grabbed her around the waist and pulled her flush to him. "Knew that mouth was good for more than just bossing me around."

Hermione tried to look offended but couldn't quite muster it. "Yes, well, it's important to have more than one skillset."

"Something tells me you're not going to write 'excels at sucking my boyfriend's cock' on your list of accomplishments."

Her eyes pinched shut. "Ah, no."

Ron kissed her. "Don't worry, I'll keep a mental list for you. That'll be right between 'fantastic tits' and 'naughty streak'."

Hermione shook her head and kissed him back. "You do that."

She felt the chuckle rumble in his chest. His hands found her bum again. "Oi. This isn't fair! I'm naked and you've still got your knickers on. How'd that happen?"

"You were distracted."

His stupid grin made her smile. "Oh yeah." He pushed up to roll her over. "Let's correct that now."

Hermione's gut clenched nervously as he lifted her hips and slipped the satin fabric down her legs. He knelt at her feet and looked up her body. "Fuck. You are beautiful."

His words calmed her nerves and she beckoned him with her arms. Bending over her, their lips and tongues met in a deep kiss. Her fingers drifted along his arms and back. Ron broke the kiss and his lips wandered down her neck to her shoulders. Pausing at her collarbone long enough to get another sigh out of her, he continued sucking his way to her chest.

Hermione's arms dropped to the side as Ron turned his attention to her breasts. A soft moan rose from her throat as he suckled. His attentions alternated sides and her eyelids fluttered closed as she marveled in the sensations. Hermione squeezed her legs together; the familiar tightening in her gut getting stronger. "Oh, Ron."

Ron took that as his cue to continue his journey down her belly. His kisses were languid, gently sucking and tasting her along the way. When he got to her navel, her hips began to slowly gyrate in anticipation. "Anxious?"

Hermione glanced down at Ron hovering over her belly. "Nervous." Her lips quirked, "And maybe a little anxious."

Ron lifted his brow, worried. "Second thoughts?"

"No." She was firm. "No. Just nervous of the unknown- not of us. Never us."

"All right. If you change your mind…"

"I won't."

"If you do, I'll stop."

Hermione smiled warmly at him. "I know."

Ron gave a small nod before dropping a kiss at her waist. Hermione let out a gasp as his next kiss was on her clitoris. Her legs opened of their own volition and Ron took the opportunity. He didn't tempt and tease this time; he delved in, licking and sucking her swiftly to orgasm. Her fingers grasped his hair as she cried out.

He paused long enough for her muscles to relax and he was at it again. In a moment of conscious awareness, Hermione was fearful she'd pull his hair out and released him. When she felt his finger slip between her folds and then gently inside of her, a moan tore from her throat. Hermione's arms shot out wildly at her sides until they found purchase on the blanket. Her back arched as his finger slipped in and out, his tongue never stopping. Another orgasm shuddered through her.

Still quivering, Hermione opened her eyes to Ron sucking on his finger. "Fuck, you taste good."

Her breath caught and her womb contracted at his words. He looked into her eyes before bending down to kiss her lips. Hermione could smell herself on him and taste herself on his lips. It was so naughty and erotic- she wanted more.

"Ron. Please," she panted.

Ron looked deep into her eyes and found whatever he was looking for. Propped on one elbow, he reached down between them. Hermione felt his penis press at her folds and slip around until her found her entrance. Her eyes pressed closed and her body tensed, knowing this was it.

"Look at me."

Hermione's eyes popped open and locked with his. Despite his heavy breathing, Ron waited. The look in his eyes was so tender and loving; she felt her whole body relax. The fear she didn't realize she had felt until this moment, dissolved. He smiled down at her and they kissed. Hermione nodded and Ron pressed forward a bit, and then pulled back. Forward again, a little deeper this time, then back. Again and again, inching his way into her. Gasping breaths. Moans. Fluttering eyelids, until, at last, he filled her.

Looking up at him, propped on his elbows, looking down at her, cradled between her legs, Hermione's breath caught in her throat. They were joined.

"You okay?" he asked.

She looked slightly confused for a moment. "Yes. It's…" she panted, "it's good. It didn't hurt."

Ron was smiling down at her. "That's a good thing."

"It is."

"So, I can move?"

A chuckle escaped between her panting breaths, "Yes. Merlin, please, yes."

Ron smiled in return, kissing her, and began to move. He was gentle as he slipped in and out of her. Hermione lifted her legs to over his hips and the shift in position caused her to gasp. Ron fitted better, deeper. He must have been hitting that g-spot thing because the sensations intensified greatly. She grasped his shoulders, and could no longer keep her eyes opened. Her neck arched as the coiled tightened more and more. The way he fit into her, stretching her… it felt amazing.

Between his own panting, he kissed her neck, jaw and lips. He was muttering with each push.

"He…'mione. Fuck…tight…good."

His pace quickened, sweat beaded on their skin… with a grunt, Ron pushed up onto his hands, bending his knees to stop slipping. His thrusts became erratic, as he was lost to the moment. Her fingers squeezed his arms and her legs tightened around his waist. Head thrown back, she couldn't breathe. She couldn't even scream as the orgasm washed over her.

Ron stiffened, pushed hard once, twice and a moan escaped him. His hips slowed to a stop and his head dropped. Lowering down to his elbows, Ron sighed and breathed deeply. Little aftershocks continued to spark through Hermione.

Years ago, Hermione's mum had told her not to 'take it lightly'; that sex was a physical _and_ emotional event for a woman. Finally being here, in this moment, Hermione reflected that she _hadn't_ taken it lightly. And thinking of the emotional roller coaster she'd been through during the last year, there had been no singular event that could outweigh the shear… _bliss_… she felt _right now_.

Breathing under control, Ron looked at her with unfocused eyes.

"My dream came true."

Hermione smiled at him, even as tears sprung to her eyes. "Mine too."

They kissed softly, gently. Ron rolled over to lie back on the blanket, pulling Hermione against his side. She laid her head on his chest, over his still pounding heart, her arm and leg draped over him.

Hermione was able to glance upwards. There was a gentle breeze stirring the leaves on the beautiful old oak tree. It caused the sunlight to twinkle as it filtered down upon them. She snuggled against her love, her soul mate and smiled.

All was right with the world.

* * *

A/N: ...and I'm thankful for family, and friends... and Ron & Hermione fan fiction.

O.K., so I didn't say that last part out loud. That would have been ackward. Another thing I'm thankful for is that that England doesn't have Thanksgiving, so HalfASlug was able to beta this chapter over the weekend. :) I'm also thankful for HalfASlug. Really.

While I'm on a roll, I see several new reviews have been posted, but alas I have no way to personally respond to you. Thank you for your reviews and enthusiasm! You like me! You really, really like me. Snif. I'm all blushy now.

Hopefully the Lemon in this chapter will make up for its long awaited arrival- consider it a belated birthday present for Hermione.

Alas, my schedule has not let up, and with Christmas around the corner, it won't for a while. So once again I must forewarn everyone that I can't say when the next chapter will arrive, but I promise it will. I sorta glossed over the whole tell-our-parents-we're-moving-in-together thing and the next chapter addresses it. Which means its the return of Margot and Warren (I've become rather fond of them).


	22. Moving On

**An Unconventional Fairytale: Moving On**

The boxes were neatly stacked at the front door, all labeled as to their contents: clothes, kitchen, bric-a-brac. Most of the boxes were marked 'clothes' since it seemed that other than being a bit of a clothes horse, Fred hadn't taken the time to outfit his flat with much more than the essentials. Even the kitchen items appeared to be dishes from the Burrow that probably held leftovers at some point and were never returned. Ron intended on reinstalling them at the Burrow- just slowly so that his mother didn't have an emotional reaction to the china.

He had given all the family a chance to come through and see if there was a memento they wanted to keep of Fred. George had his chance first, of course. Ron remembered the day. He wanted to give his brother some privacy, but was loathe to leave him alone, so he stood in the doorway as his brother wandered. George had disappeared into the bedroom for some time and Ron was about to go looking for him when he reappeared.

Of all the items George could keep, it was a gaudy light-up tie that he picked. Walking up to Ron, George muttered something about "matched set" and "his idea" before continuing across the landing to his own flat. Ron followed him in and watched as George flopped down on the sofa, eyes glassy as he tried to hold himself together.

Ron walked to the side table, poured a couple of firewhiskies from a too-empty bottle and sat in an armchair across from his brother. He held out a drink to George who took it.

"To Fred and his fantastically horrible fashion sense."

With a snort, George clinked his glass to Ron's and drank down the amber liquid. He sat back and eyed his younger brother. Ron tried to fathom what George was thinking, but couldn't.

"Why are you here?"

Ron blinked, "Pardon?"

"Here. Working in the shop? Helping me?"

Ron was taken aback. "I... what..."

George shook his head and sat forward to put his elbows on his knees. "You don't owe me... us... anything." He wiped his face with his hands. "After all the shit we gave you."

Ron sat back, at a loss for words.

"You were such an easy target. All you wanted was our acceptance, to fit in. Fuck- we turned your teddy bear into a spider! And you kept coming back for more." George's head hung in shame. "We took advantage of you... for a laugh." He looked at Ron, tears in his eyes. "So why the fuck are you here?"

Funny thing was Ron already knew the answer. "Because you're my brother and you need me."

They held each other's gaze for several heartbeats.

"What happened to you this year?"

Again, Ron had no idea where George was going.

"Yeah, I know what Harry told us. I'm talking about those giant gaps in the story no one has the balls to ask about. When the fuck did you turn into this..." George waved his hand in Ron's direction. "...man?"

It was almost funny, but Ron couldn't find the smile. He looked away and took a deep breath. He wasn't quite ready to confess his sins to anyone. Ron wasn't sure if he'd ever be, but he could hint.

"I fucked up. I let them down and I nearly lost them both. That should have been it. I should have lost my best friend and the girl I love in one shot." Ron paused, closed his eyes and gathered himself. "For reasons I've only guessed at, I didn't. They forgave me." A sad smile crossed Ron's face. "It was the hardest lesson I've ever had to learn- and I'll be damned if I fuck up again."

With confidence that was only six months old, Ron looked into his brother's eyes. "I learned there are far more terrible things to fear than what people think of me." A smirk crossed his face. "I don't care if you think I'm a tit every time Hermione comes around and I run to her, hold her hand or kiss her. She loves me, and I get to love her back and that's worth more than being... cool or something."

Ron sat forward. "As to why I'm here- I'm here because I'm afraid if we leave you alone too long I'll be down to only three brothers and Mum will lose another son and I don't know if she can take that. You two worked too damn hard to build this place and I won't let the Death Eaters take it too." Ron stood to leave. "And just so we're clear," he looked down seriously at his brother, "I forgive you."

George looked up at Ron, clearly at a loss for words. He simply nodded. Ron turned to leave and got to the door before George spoke. "I wouldn't do it."

Ron turned back, "Do what?"

George looked solemn, "Kill myself." He took a deep breath. "Fred... and I... we promised each other that, no matter what, we'd keep going. Keep the shop running. Keep on living. It's hard some days- every time I look in the fucking mirror in fact."

Ron gave him a half grin. "I don't know why; Fred had two ears."

George couldn't fight the smile and he chortled. "True." There was the tiniest of twinkles in George's eye. "Thanks, Ronniekins."

"Anytime."

Ron stacked the last of the clothes boxes on the pile. He had noticed a marked improvement in George after that day. Ron would still hear him break down in the back room from time to time, but when on the shop floor, there was a bit more bounce in his step and his smile came easier. Ron hoped that in a few months' time George would be all right when he left for Auror training. Provided he was accepted, that was.

Ron wandered around the flat one last time looking for stray bits. Most of the furniture was staying, except the bed. Mostly because it would be weird to sleep in Fred's bed (and with Hermione in it that would be even weirder) but also because of the whole "our bed" thing. Chances were they'd move from here someday- maybe to another flat- definitely to a house someday- and the bed would be the one thing they'd take with. It would be the first thing that would be theirs, together.

He had asked Hermione to go shopping for one. He really didn't care what it looked like so long as it was comfortable and was big enough to fit him. Ron figured she'd care more about the aesthetics (_where the bloody hell did he learn that word?_) so that's why he asked her to go and he would stay and pack up.

She left on the promise he would label the boxes and stack them neatly. And he did those things; she said nothing about how the contents were to be packed.

He was looking forward to living with Hermione. Not only for the whole sleeping together and shagging part (which was _brilliant_, thank you very much). But because it finally felt like he was an adult. Turning seventeen and the whole coming-of-age thing had been overshadowed by the whole poisoning thing, plus he was still in school so it really didn't amount to much. And despite having been on their own most of the last year, he'd just as soon forget that whole business.

But now they were going to have their own flat. Sure he'd be going off to the academy and she back to Hogwarts this autumn- but for a few months they'd have their own place together. They'd already lived together the better part of the last year, except now they wouldn't have to rummage for mushrooms (if he never saw another mushroom his whole life it would be too soon) and they'd be sharing a bed. Ron couldn't see how anything could go wrong.

Even his Mum was for it. Well, accepted it.

Maybe.

He was pretty sure she was okay with it.

Yeah.

He remembered that rainy Thursday when they'd gone down for lunch. He was two bites into his pudding when Ron felt Hermione's hand on his thigh. Spoon half to his mouth, he looked down at her.

Her eyes widened a bit and her head waggled to say. "_You should tell her_."

His lips pouted and nodded to the spoon held aloft. "_Now? I'm not done with pudding?"_

Her lips pursed and eyes narrowed. "_Yes. Now."_

His rolled his eyes and pouted. "_Oh, all right."_

"Mum?"

Molly was bustling around the room as usual. "Yes, dear?"

"George has offered me the other flat."

Molly paused and looked at her youngest son. "Oh?"

Ron swallowed. "Yeah." He dove in. "I'mgoingtomoveinwithHermione."

Everyone froze and waited. Ron watched as several emotions rolled over his mother's face, but he didn't break his gaze. Her eyes locked with his, Molly finally took a deep breath and smiled at him. It was a small smile, but not sad or resigned. At least he didn't think so. She nodded and went about her business. That had been the end of it- a rather good outcome by Ron's reckoning. He told her later that evening about his plan for Fred's belongings. Molly teared up a bit, but smiled at him and stroked his cheek before hugging him. "I think that's a wonderful idea."

The day after George came through, Ron's parents came over. He didn't stick around that time. His Mum had come back clutching a couple things, both parents' eyes blood shot from crying. She hovered over the lot of them that night. Many hugs and kisses on temples. Molly cooked for twice the number of people the Burrow held, but cooking had always been her therapy. No one complained. The rest of the family took their turns the next couple of days until it was finally time to pack up the remainder.

Of Fred's belongings, Ron had kept an empty box, found discarded behind a dresser. It had been one of their original Skiving Snackboxes- contents long gone. He set it up on the mantle of the fireplace. Ron charmed the packed boxes to float down the stairs so he could take them to the local donation drop off.

*0*

Hermione had thought she had the easy job.

Pick out a new bed for the flat. Easy. She set out, marching down Diagon Alley. Suddenly stopping in the middle of the street, Hermione realized she had no idea where a witch would go to buy furniture. Cauldrons, owls, talking tea cozies- certainly, but a bed? Not without exchanging their funds to Muggle money anyway.

Hermione thought about apparating to the Burrow, but only Molly was home and it seemed awkward to ask her about where to buy a bed to share with her son. Mrs. Weasley had been accepting of the situation and Hermione didn't want to push their luck.

Thinking of the Burrow made her realize who to ask without having to endure too many questions or inappropriate comments. Stopping at the Leaky Cauldron, she used the Floo and traveled to the Ministry.

Memories of the last time she emerged from the fire here drifted across her mind. She was pleased to see a change for the better. The horrible statue had been torn down. The fountain was now bare, but Hermione knew planning was underway for a replacement.

She crossed to the lifts, "Office for Proper Use and Storage of Magical Artefacts." The lift whisked her away to the third floor. Hermione quickly found Mr. Weasley's office just as several people were starting to recognize her. She was starting to appreciate why Harry stayed safely ensconced at the Burrow.

She waited patiently as Arthur finished business with some co-workers. "Hermione! Come in, dear, what a surprise. Not a social call I presume?"

She returned Arthur's embrace. "No, afraid it's just a question and I thought you'd be the best person to ask."

"Anything, dear."

"Well, you see, I don't know where to go to buy furniture."

"For the flat? Ah, well, that would depend on what you need."

Hermione was always rather fond of Mr. Weasley. He reminded her so much of Ron- adorably oblivious, the both of them.

She turned to fully face into his office so as not to be overheard. "For the bedroom."

His eyes shot open and realization set in. "Ah. Yes, well... your best bet would be Brocklehurst."

"Isn't that a Muggle shop?"

"It's both. Down the side alley you'll spot the door. You can't miss it."

"Thanks!" Hermione watched his ears turn pink as she kissed him on the cheek. "I'll let you get back to work- I think there's a queue forming."

Hermione made her way out of the Ministry, trying desperately to look like she belonged so as not to draw attention.

Arthur had readily accepted that she and Ron would be sharing the flat. In fact, he didn't seem surprised at all. The more she thought about it, the more she realized how alike Ron and his father were. Both of them were actually quite observant and had keen instincts. Yet, when something was right in front of their nose they had trouble seeing it.

Or maybe that wasn't the issue at all. For Arthur, it was his youthful exuberance that bypassed his brain sometimes and let the question fall out. For Ron, it was his insecurity that prevented him from seeing all the possibilities; though that was becoming less and less the case. Hermione smiled to herself as she thought about the day Ron's own exuberance would be his only issue.

Hermione arrived at Brocklehurst and turned down the side alley. There was an unassuming door marked 'Brocklehurst Only'. As Hermione approached the door, the space between 'Brocklehurst' and 'Only' shimmered as the words 'Magical Folk' appeared. Yes, this was the place.

As she looked about for the bed section, Hermione reflected on her own father's reaction to the news.

_It was breakfast the Saturday after Ron had asked her. Hermione nervously nibbled on her toast as her mother sat next to her._

_"Something on your mind, sweetheart?"_

_As Hermione glanced up, she noticed her mother had that Cheshire grin she adopted whenever she already knew the answer to her question. Hermione sighed; there was nothing for it. "George has offered Ron the other flat over the shop."_

_"That's nice of him, seeing as Ron works there so much." Her father's words drifted over the top of the newspaper he was reading._

_Hermione glanced back at her mother, who was still smiling. Margot quirked an eyebrow as if to say, "Well?"_

_Hermione sucked in her bottom lip and took a deep breath. "He's asked me to move in with him."_

_The newspaper blocking her father's view folded back over his hands to reveal his flat expression. Hermione waited for the explosion._

_"That sounds wonderful dear, when do you think it'll be ready to move in?" her mother asked._

_Her expression was still sheepish as she continued to look towards her father. "Not exactly sure. He's going to let the family see if there's anything they want to keep and the remainder of Fred's things will be donated to the Ministry's victim relief fund."_

_"Well that's very thoughtful of him." Margot responded._

_Hermione kept waiting for her father to say something; he clearly had an opinion._

_Margot looked at him pointedly. "Isn't that nice of him, Warren?"_

_"They're too young."_

_Margot glared at her husband, "Warren, we discussed this."_

_Hermione watched the exchange between her parents. They had "discussed" it? Her father glowered but his shoulders sagged and he puffed out a resigned, "very well."_

_That had been the end of the discussion, but Hermione didn't feel it was resolved at all. She waited for her father to finish getting ready for the day. Hermione really didn't want to cause problems, especially between her parents. She peered around the doorframe to the study to find him sitting there, finishing the newspaper._

_"Dad?" Hermione came closer to where he sat on the sofa. "You don't want me to move in with Ron, do you?"_

_"I didn't say that."_

_She gave him an incredulous look._

_Warren sighed and gave her a sad look. Softly, he reaffirmed, "I didn't say that. I'm just trying to reconcile the image of the little girl in my head with the reality of the young woman before me."_

_Hermione felt her eyes tear up._

_He set aside the paper and patted the seat next to him so she would join him. "If Ron was some lad you'd met over the summer then I'd have an issue." Warren took a deep breath. "But Ron isn't some boy, is he?"_

_She smiled softly and shook her head._

_He sat back and gave Hermione a little smile. "Did you know Ron and I had a talk, back in Australia?"_

_She shook her head again, "He didn't say."_

_"Yes, well, don't pester him about it- it's none of your business. But what I saw then wasn't a boy nervously asking me if he could see my daughter. There was a young man, _telling_ me how much he loves you."_

_Warren's smile became melancholy. "I don't have issue with you moving in with Ron." Warren touched a finger under her chin to lift her head. "I'm just a father... having to accept that you're not _my_ little girl anymore."_

_Her watery eyes finally spring tears. "Dad." Hermione flung her arms around her father and held him tight. "I love you."_

_"I know, Hermione." He enjoyed the feel of his daughter in his embrace. "And I will always love you." Warren pulled back to give her a real smile. "My bright witch. Head on your shoulders. I'm so very proud of you."_

_She smiled back with blurry eyes._

_After that, the issue had been resolved. Ron had been over to dinner since and her father had even inquired as to the flat, its amenities and about the Victim Relief fund. Hermione felt better about the whole thing._

She had been wandering the bed aisles, waiting for something to catch her eye. Too garish, too plain, too big, too small… Hermione finally came across a bed with potential. It was a head and footboard set that appeared to be made of oak. A row of balustrades lined both parts with delicate carvings of leaves and birds along the corners. Just enough to be pretty and the bed seemed a good size. Hermione lay on one side, her feet at the footboard and she looked up. Yes, she'd only have to stretch the bed a little to accommodate Ron.

Even better, it was within budget. Hermione purchased the bed which came as a small parcel box that would spring open when the cord was pulled. As she apparated back to Diagon Alley, Hermione couldn't wait to show Ron _their bed_.

* * *

A/N: How exciting, a new chapter within the week! Strangely, this one nearly wrote itself. Strange because this isn't a chapter I had previously envisioned in my head. It's necessary, yes, but when I had my original thoughts for this story I imagined other things like Margot telling Hermione about her fairytale (thus the title), their tree (and activities under said tree), Ron smashing furniture to deal with grief, etc. No part of this chapter was premeditated and I'm rather pleased with myself for it. Not sure about *your* opinion (the reviews will let me know), but I like it.

Again I must thank my reviewers to taking the time to leave a note. I like to respond to all my reviews, but some folks don't log in or allow PM's- so a blanket thanks! to you all. And the usual thanks to my personal English-type person. HalfASlug has some very nice one shots you should go check out.

You may think that I forgot to write the standard disclaimer in my last chapter, but it wasn't necessary as I was channeling J.K. Rowling. So it's practically her words- if you believe in that sort of thing. If you don't, then I'll just take all the credit for that chapter and this one despite the lack of financial gain.

Lastly, the standard I'm-busy-this-time-of-year disclaimer so no clue when the next chapter will show up.


	23. Coupling

A/N: Suppose I should put a pre-note here- this story is rated M for a reason. Ron and Hermione are hormonal teenagers who have read books about having sex. If that's not your bag you may want to skip this chapter- though you will miss out on some cute banter.

* * *

**An Unconventional Fairytale: **Coupling

"Ronald, this is serious. I need you to choose."

Ron looked at Hermione from where he was lounged back on his bed. She was cross-legged between his, numerous bits of colored paper and fabrics spread out around her.

"Honestly, Hermione, I don't care. Whatever you want. You picked out the bed on your own, so I don't see what the problem is."

Hermione straightened her back and huffed. "For the bed there were only so many choices based on size and what we could afford. But this is the colors of the walls and new fabric for the sofa, so you should have an opinion."

Ron looked at the colors and fabrics again and felt his head spin. It was like astronomy homework all over again. "I'm telling you; whatever you pick will be fine." Shaking his head, he picked up a scrap of fabric. "Men can't have opinions about fabric."

"Ronald."

"Hermione."

Her eyes were narrowed very dangerously, but he'd been here before- usually the night before a long essay was due. But this time there was no essay and he really didn't care what colors she picked. He honestly thought she'd be happy to just do what she wanted.

Refusing to back down, Ron didn't break eye contact, but then her expression changed completely. Her eyes went from I'm-going-to-hex-you to I'm-getting-into-mischief with a single eyebrow raise. Oddly, it was now that he was worried. Hermione's idea of mischief usually involved handing over Professors to giants and Polyjuice Potion.

"What if I made it worth your while?"

"What?" He had been distracted thinking about her past transgressions.

Hermione moved to sit up on her knees between his legs. "What if I made choosing worth your while?" Her lips quirked. "You have three choices to make, so what if I removed an article of clothing for each one you make?"

Ron looked at her stunned and forgot to breathe. He finally puffed out, "Charm the door."

She smiled, picked up her wand and silenced the door. She collected three of the color chips. "All right, I'll narrow it down for you- which of these do you like for the front room?"

Ron scanned over the colors and promptly picked the dark red. "That one."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

Hermione stuck his selection to the wall and turned back. As promised, she slowly lifted her top off, leaving on her bra. It didn't matter how many times he'd seen her topless, his heart still raced. He watched her collect four paint colors.

"Which one do you like for the bedroom?"

"That one." He had selected a slate blue color because it reminded him of her childhood bedroom.

"You're sure?" she asked in a lilting voice.

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Well, you didn't have an opinion before so I'm just checking."

He frowned at her teasing, but didn't press the issue because she was about to take off more clothes. Hermione stuck the other color to the wall and stood so she could wiggle out of her jeans. Stood before him in nothing but her knickers and bra, Hermione held up three bits of fabric. "Which of these for the sofa?"

Ron picked the one on the right- it was sort of a burgundy with dark patterns in it. "That one."

"Why this one?"

Merlin, she was torturing him. "Because it goes with the red paint."

Hermione gave him a saucy smile. "Good choice."

He didn't give her a chance to finish; his arms where around her and his lips pressed into her skin in a flash. The bits of fabric fluttered to the floor as her fingers threaded into his hair.

Fuck, she felt good. He'd been dreaming and wanking to the memory of making love to her under their tree for days now. They'd seen each other since, but they never had much time alone, what with working in the shop and cleaning the flat. Finally she'd come over to stay for dinner at the Burrow and they were alone in his room at last.

It was funny, last time it was easy to go slow, but this time he couldn't get enough of her. Ron quickly unsnapped Hermione's bra and let it fall to the floor. Sat on the bed, he was at the perfect level with her tits as she stood between his legs. Her fingers played with the hair along his neck and he heard her moan. Hermione had fantastic tits. Certainly, he'd seen bigger, but these were just right and, more importantly, they were hers and he got to look at them and play with them and suck on them until…

"Oh, Ron."

Fucking fantastic.

Hermione was starting to pull at his shirt, so Ron lifted his arms so she could divest him of it. He looked up at her and couldn't help but smile. Hair all wild, topless and a smug smirk on her lips- she had him right where she wanted him and knew it.

"I love you."

Her smirk softened and Hermione caressed his cheek. "I love you, too."

"This was your plan all along then?"

"What? To use my 'feminine whiles' to get you to make a decision? Certainly not."

"Ha!"

"I could leave."

Ron grabbed her hips and pulled her flush to him. "You wouldn't."

She stood, haughtily. "Oh? What makes you so sure?"

His eyes had darkened. "Because you want to make love again as much as I do."

He watched Hermione's breath catch and pupils dilate. "I wouldn't want to break my word."

Ron tipped his head. "Your word?"

"I wanted our first time to be under our tree, and you gave me that. And you want to make love in your bed and, since we're moving into the flat soon, this may be our last chance."

"Well, when you put it that way…"

Ron stood so he could drop his trousers and pants.

"That didn't take long."

They both glanced down to his partial erection and he shrugged. "You're standing here in naught but your knickers- what did you expect?"

"Doesn't that hurt? Being trapped in your trousers?"

"You get used to it."

Hermione's lips quirked in amusement and she turned so she could remove her pants as well.

"What if I wanted to do that?"

She rolled her eyes. "Want me to put them back on?"

Ron was already lifting her flush against him. "Too late."

They were laughing as they kissed and he turned them so he could lay her back on the bed.

His eyes racked over her naked body, laid back on his bed. When he got to her face she was smiling softly at him.

"How did I get so lucky?"

Hermione's smile broadened. "I was going to say the same thing."

Ron bent down to his hands and knees over her to kiss her lips. Slowly, he started dropping kisses along her jaw, to below her ear. A soft sigh escaped her lips and he continued on to her neck. With wet, sucking kisses, he made his way down her neck to her shoulders, across her chest, pausing to suck at 'The Spot' until she moaned. Her whole body moved under him, tempting him on.

Back to the center of her chest, he sucked his way down to between her tits and her back arched up. Ron laved his tongue over a nipple before sucking it into his mouth. Hermione whimpered when he stopped, but cried out an "oh" when he found the other.

As fantastic as her tits were, he had better places to be, so his mouth continued its journey down her belly. Rapidly running out of bed to kneel on, he stood at the foot of the bed and slipped his hands under her hips. When she looked up to see what he was doing, Ron winked at her. "Relax." Hermione giggled as he pulled her down the bed so her legs hung over the end. Using the quilt that had bunched up on the floor to cushion his knees, he knelt down and picked up where he left off.

Ron left a ring of wet kisses around her navel. He glanced up and saw she'd propped up on her elbows. "Want to watch?"

"I like to know what's happening. You know how I like to be in control."

He smirked at her, "Control, eh? Let's see what I can do about that."

Ron's large hands slide down her legs to push apart her knees as he leaned forward to press a hard kiss on her clit. Kneading his lips against her, he turned his eyes up to see her fighting to keep hers open and stay upright. This wouldn't do.

Ron pushed his tongue to her, slipping down her folds and back up. "Fuck, you're wet." _Nothing quite like talking dirty to get her off_. Her eyes closed and head dropped back with a moan. "Like that?" He repeated the motion, sucking her clit at the end.

"Oh. Ron. Ahhh." Hermione's voice was strangled and still she fought to hang on.

"Stubborn woman." Ron had watched her come undone before and he had every intention of doing so again. It seemed this time she was anticipating it, so was able to fight him. But he still had a few tricks.

Dipping down to swirl his tongue around her clit, his head blocked her view. He could hear her whimpers and moans; breaths coming hot and fast. Her thighs were quivering under his hands. Carefully, his fingers slipped up and down her wet folds. Suddenly, Ron plunged two of them into her and he silently hoped her silencing charm was holding. Her cry rattled his eardrums and her legs nearly pushed him across the room.

That was better.

Before Hermione had a chance to recover, Ron started pumping his fingers and sucking her clit harder. Her hands grabbed at his hair, shoulders, the bed, her own hair. He had to get one of her legs over his shoulder to prevent being kicked because he refused to stop. The sounds coming from her were disjointed and nonsensical. At last he could feel her tensing up, her breathing halting.

The moan sounded like it was being torn from her. Her entire body shook as her back arched off the bed. Ron stopped and sat back on his heals to look at her.

Splayed out, hair everywhere, skin slick with sweat- fuck, she was gorgeous. When her eyes fluttered open and looked down at him, Ron sucked his fingers into his mouth.

Hermione whimpered again, "Ron."

Ron stood to lean over her for a kiss. She sucked at his lips. "Please, need..."

He felt her calves slide up his legs. He would have thought she'd be spent after that, but apparently not.

"Please, Ron, need you... in me..."

He kissed her softly and reached down to slip his cock into her. "Fuck. You are so... tight... hot."

Ron knelt on the bed, lifting her legs over his hips. Their eyes locked as he began pumping in and out of her. You would think his brain would have stopped working at this point, but a memory came to the surface. Ron thought about when Hermione talked about the difference between sex and making love. He had agreed with her at the time, not completely getting it but not wanting to argue since he was the one being praised. It was now, in this moment, when he got it.

This wasn't sex. He watched her pant and gasp as their bodies moved together. Her heals dug into his back and his own heart raced. Her pussy was so hot and wet and tight- he wasn't going to last much longer (it also occurred to him he had never lasted this long before).

This wasn't sex. This wasn't just some bird he was getting off with. This wasn't just a physical thing to get his jollies.

This was Hermione. This was the woman he loved. This was the woman he was going to spend his life with. He knew the reason he had lasted this long was that _this_ wasn't about him. This was about him pleasuring her, making her come undone and the satisfaction in knowing _he_ was the lucky bastard who had done it. This was making love.

With a jerk, he came and nearly collapsed but caught himself before crushing her. Hermione's arms gently pulled him down on top of her and he didn't protest. His face tucked into the crook of her neck, with a grunt Ron pushed his legs out so he was half-on and half-off the bed. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and legs around his waist. She drew lazy patterns with her fingertips along his sweat-slick back and he slowly caught his breath.

He popped his head up suddenly to look at her. "You didn't come."

Her face lit up in amusement. "Oh, I think I did. Telling me you missed that?"

He was still serious and shook his head. "Not that one- I mean during, while I was... in you."

"Oh." Her fingers brushed his damp hair from his forehead. "Doesn't matter. It still felt wonderful- I did enjoy it." She smiled brightly. "I think if I had come again I'd pass out, so it's probably for the best."

He still looked concerned. "So, it's okay?"

She quirked her lips. "Yes, Ron. Believe me, its okay. I don't feel neglected. It was... amazing." She kissed him. "And to think, it's only supposed to get better."

He finally smiled back. "Maybe someday I will make you pass out."

Her eyes widened. "Oh my."

Ron frowned a little. "But then I'd have to wait for you to come to- it'd be weird doing all that having you lay there, limp."

"Are you a wizard or not? _Ennervate_."

"Oh yeah." He smirked. "Saying you want me to try?"

She gave him a saucy smile. "If you want to."

Ron grinned from ear to ear. "There's my naughty witch." They kissed slow and deep. "Any more fabrics you need me to have an opinion on?"

* * *

A/N: First and foremost, this chapter is named for and includes a direct quote from one of my most favourite TV shows- Coupling (proper UK version, thank you). If you have seen the show, then you know; if you haven't seen the show then you're a breast behind and you'll want to do something about that. The show is on DVD, so go now and watch it. Just don't bother with the fourth series- it's just not the same without Jeff.

Despite having a broken laptop, HalfASlug beta'd this chapter for your enjoyment. She's been knocking out some very cute one-shots lately- go read them (right after you're done watching Coupling).

My gratitude to all my readers and reviewers- over 200 reviews and I'm on chapter 23- I had no idea I would get this far and I still have more to go. This is where I give the usual busy blah blah, holidays blah blah, family blah blah... more AUF will come, just not sure when.

Wishing J.K. Rowling a very Happy Christmas and hoping she's given her solicitors a nice long holiday.


	24. Home

**An Unconventional Fairytale:** Home

"Think you can finish this up, Ronniekins?"

Ron didn't look down at his brother from his perch on the ladder; the old childish moniker no longer upset him. He was stocking the upper shelves with Fanged Flyers and didn't want to become distracted and upset them; he'd spend the rest of the night chasing them around the shop if he did. "I think so. Just have the Headless Hats left to put up. Why? You off?"

George muttered something before speaking up, "Lee came around earlier, invited me out with some old friends. Promised him I'd show up, lest he come round and drag me there."

Ron placed the last box and descended the ladder. "Sounds good. I can finish up here."

"You're certain?"

Ron grabbed George's shoulders, turned him about, and walked him to the door. "Positive. Now get."

George looked up at his little brother. "Thanks, Ron."

"Any time."

Ron closed the door behind George, locked it and flipped the sign to 'closed'. Pulling out his wand, Ron charmed the Headless Hat boxes to march down the aisle to a wall of pegs. As he hung the various hats on the pegs he thought he could hear noise from the flat upstairs. She'd be making dinner by now. A stupid smile claimed his face and he was glad George was gone or he'd be taking the mickey out of it.

He and Hermione moved into the flat three days ago, but this was Ron's first full day back to work. The last two were filled with moving in his and her belongs and putting them away. He had to admit, she'd done a really good job of setting the place up; you wouldn't recognize it from when Fred lived there. Of course, he hadn't done much to it- spending most of his energies on the shop.

Using the colors she had marvelously coerced out of him, Hermione painted the flat (with the help of several charmed paint brushes) the rich dark red and slate blue. She'd taken the sofa to have the upholstery redone per the similarly coerced fabric sample. Fred's old sofa had looked like it had been found in an alley and knowing Fred, it probably had been. Now it was red with gold bits and looked like something you wouldn't mind having touch your skin.

Ron remembered going in after she had finished cleaning and painting. He had felt a bit guilty, leaving it to her, but Hermione assured him it wasn't a problem since he was busy working in the shop. "It's not like you're just lounging about doing nothing. You're helping your brother, and that's important. If I need your help, I'll ask." And that had been the end of it. That had been five days ago; she had come down to the shop that evening, a bright smile on her face and dirt smudged on her cheek.

He couldn't help teasing her, "You've got a bit of dirt- right there."

"What? Oh." She absently wiped at her face, missing the spot altogether. "Come up. I want to show you."

Ron let her lead him up the narrow stair and with a flourish she opened the door. The room was warm and inviting. Hermione twirled about, spreading her arms as if to say, "What do you think?" She had arranged the larger pieces of furniture they were keeping into their approximate resting place.

"It looks fantastic. You've done a great job."

Hermione beamed at him. "You think so?"

Ron wrapped her into his arms and kissed her forehead. "Yes. It's brilliant. Not that I expected any less, but I also can't really complain seeing as I didn't help."

"I told you, I don't mind. I'm just glad you like it."

Hermione spent the next two days finding additional things that she claimed they would need. They tried very hard to use their own funds; George was paying Ron rather well for his time and Hermione had some Muggle money left from the last year. Harry had insisted on repaying Hermione for all of it, but after several rows, they finally compromised on him paying back his share. It seemed every time Ron wandered into the flat Hermione had found something new to add to it.

"I found this old stand for Pigwidgeon's cage at Eeylops, I just had to clean it up a bit." At the door a coat rack stood and behind it on the wall was a hook for his Cleansweep. Just beyond, next to the window, was Pig's cage, hanging from the now shining hook stand. A disused crate sat underneath, filled with old Daily Prophets. Ron foresaw many exasperated reminders to clean Pig's cage in his future.

He helped her move two bookcases from her old room up the stairs; shrinking them to quarter size certainly helped. She put one on either side of the fireplace. "I put the bookcases here, I thought they balanced the fireplace nicely. Several of the books are doubled since they're both of ours, but I have a few others you don't." Most of the books were their old school books (of which Hermione had more), but a few of her old childhood books, that she had stored in the Burrow attic last year, sat together on one shelf. He had little doubt that she'd fill the rest in no time and would be looking for ways to bring in additional shelves.

Before the fireplace were the newly covered sofa and a pair of armchairs on either side. She found the armchairs at a 'car boot sale' (whatever that was) along with a set of dishes and other kitchen "essentials" as she called them. Fred had a small side table that Hermione placed next to one of the chairs, "for your chess set." While the board was laid out, he kept the pieces in the drawer since once set up they would get antsy if a game wasn't started right away and could get very vocal in their protests. Over the sofa laid the quilt from his old bed, since it would be too small for their new one.

They kept the small dining table and three chairs Fred had acquired; Hermione found a fourth chair that very nearly matched since it "seemed silly to only have three chairs." Ron realized that the only 'new' thing in their flat was the bed, but now, after two nights, even it qualified as used.

Along the mantle she set out pictures of his family and hers. Hermione also put out a picture of the two of them with Harry from first year. _Damn, had they really been that young?_ There was another picture of him and Hermione dancing at the wedding last summer that Fleur had given her. Ron hadn't even realized it had been taken; he had been too engrossed with Hermione at the time. He had very nearly lost out to Krum again, and he'd be damned if he'd let that happen. It hadn't been his smoothest moment, but Hermione _had_ danced with him all night and that's all that mattered in the end.

Tucked next to the fireplace was Crookshanks' pillow bed that had several little furry ball things strewn around it. His food dish was set on a mat in case he got too enthusiastic while eating. Ron's dad had come over several days ago and helped install a cat flap in the door to their flat and the one to the side alley. Crookshanks now wore a charmed collar so the door only opened for him. Bloody cat seemed to know it to and strutted around more than usual. Though considering the alternative was having to listen to the beast mewl at the window all night, Ron could handle a little strutting.

Ron had been pleasantly surprised when he saw that she had taken one of his old Chudley Cannons poster from his room and hung it in the front room. She had smoothed out the wrinkles and framed it, but it was still his poster and it was still where everyone could see it (not in the bathroom, or behind a cupboard door or something). There was another poster, this one from her old room. A Muggle thing by some bloke named Mo-knee or something. She said it was flowers, and he supposed from a distance it probably did look like flowers. They had bickered over it for a while before he changed course and reminded her it was their first night together in their flat.

Their first night together in _their_ bed.

Yeah, that had been a good night. Great night. Bloody fucking fantastic night. He was really getting the knack of making Hermione come undone and scream. Broke the bed in proper. Well, they didn't actually break the bed, but… yeah. And despite being big enough to spread out, they slept curled together same as always. He never woke as early as he did when they slept together so he could watch her in the morning light- hair all spread out, face serene. The only thing better than sleeping with her, was waking up with her. Fuck, he really was a tit.

The next day, when he went down to the shop, George gave him this look- a mix of peeved and amused. Maybe a little proud. "You know, silencing charms are good and all that, but they don't stop things hanging on the other side of the wall banging about." Ron was sure to move the bed several inches from the wall that evening.

Ron returned from his musings to the present as he finished hanging the Headless Hats. He banished the boxes to the back room; he'd deal with them in the morning. Pulling the Deluminator from his pocket, he put out the lights and made his way upstairs.

He silently opened the door and looked in. Hermione was at the cooker, making dinner. She had been taking lessons from his mother as to how to use magic when cooking as well as using a wood fired oven, but she didn't trust herself enough to leave it unattended yet. As Ron looked around the flat he thought about all the things Hermione had done to assure it would be 'theirs'. Even though she had done most of the work, she had made sure to include him, saying she wanted it to feel like home.

And he appreciated it, truly he did. Ron had grown up in a house made with second hand parts by a father who had great talent and was under-appreciated by his peers. Ron's youth had been filled with wonderful smells coming from the kitchen despite the modest budget his mother had to work with. He had spent the better part of his life watching her bustle around the kitchen, cooking, tending endless washing and, when she got a chance to sit down, knitting jumpers. To Ron, that was home.

Hermione had some old Muggle music playing on the wireless, said it was the sort of thing her parents liked to dance to. She was gently swaying back and forth in time to it. Ron slipped up behind her and placed his hands on her hips and a kiss on her head.

"Oh, Ron, you're home. Would you mind setting the table? Dinner's nearly ready."

"As you wish."

He wasn't foolish enough to say his thoughts out loud to Hermione; he knew full well that once done with school she'd start working for the Ministry and go on to become Supreme Mugwump or Minister for Magic or something. He never thought she'd follow the same path as his mother.

"How was your day?"

But right now, in this moment, watching her tend to dinner in their second-hand flat, he was home.

"It's perfect."

* * *

This chapter fought me tooth and nail. And now that it's written, I haven't a clue why. Toss in the holidays and teaching a class this semester and the delays compounded. But here it is! As promised! Not terribly long, but at least it's done.

I have a few orders of business- first, I have re-found a story that served as inspiration for the title of this story and also the 'fairytale' bit from the 'Daughters' chapter. It's "Her Own Fairy Tale" by writergirl8. Credit where it is due.

Second, I have had several reviews to which I could not respond. This makes me sad as I would like to thank you and/or share my thoughts on why I have made certain choices.

Third, yes, I am referencing Princess Bride.

Lastly, all hail J.K. Rowling, supreme creator and really awesome person and HalfASlug for proof reading and telling me about car boot sales. And also because she will enjoy being in the same sentence as Jo Rowling.


	25. Happy Day All Round

A/N: while not necessary, it wouldn't hurt if you've read "Fairytale Dropping" #8- "The Talk"

* * *

**An Unconventional Fairytale**: Happy Day All Round

"No, don't touch that…"

Blam!

"George!" Hermione bellowed.

"You called?" George's head appeared from around the corner of the aisle. "Oh, I see you've found the new Keeping Secrets boxes. If anyone other than the owner tries to open it… well." He gestured to Hermione's face and sniggered. "Have you shown your mother the Boxing Telescopes? You could get a matched set."

Hermione stood, seething, as Margot stood by watching with a look of mixed concern and amusement. "George, if you don't fix this right now I'll hex you into next week. And you know I can do it."

"Now, now. No need to get violent." He waved his wand and the black circle around Hermione's right eye disappeared. "Having a good time Mrs. Granger? Hermione giving you the proper tour?"

Margot looked around Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes with wide eyes. "Oh yes, it's simply fantastic. Almost too much to take in at once."

George puffed out his chest proudly. "Thus the repeat customers- always something you haven't discovered." He leaned in close to her. "Speaking of, have you seen our line of Darling Desirables? Guaranteed to light anyone's fire…"

"George," Hermione cut in, "I think there are some customers over there that need your help."

"Spoilsport." He stuck out his tongue at her. As he turned to leave, George took Margot's hand. "Don't let her take away all your fun- you feel free to try out anything you like."

Mother and daughter watched George engage a group of young customers. "Quite the charmer, isn't he?"

"Yes, quite." Hermione pursed her lips. "Seriously, Mum, you need to be careful what you touch."

"So I've noticed." Margot continued down the aisle, reading the various labels. Ton-Tongue Toffee. You-No-Poo? Trick Wands. "I take it Boxing Telescopes yield similar results?"

"Nearly- it results in an actual bruise around your eye, not just a black ring? Except last time not even Molly could remove it; when we visited the store Fred gave me an ointment to get it off." Hermione gave a wry smile as she shook her head. "For school drop outs, they really are quite accomplished wizards."

Margot continued her browsing. Extendable Ears. Split Vision. "Well, goes to show that traditional school isn't always for everyone. Look at your Ron. How often did you complain about him not paying attention or doing homework? And yet he's very clever and smart. Your father still hasn't beaten him at chess."

Hermione smiled proudly. "I know. It's making Ron nervous. He thinks Dad is going to get upset and forbid him from seeing me."

"Oh, your father's frustrated, but he can't help but be impressed as well- which only adds to his frustration, of course."

"Margot, what do you think of my hat?"

She turned to look at her husband, but instead saw a body without a head. "Oh!"

"Fantastic, aren't they? Headless Hats! What else will they think of?" Warren lifted off the hat, causing his head to reappear. "At first I thought it was the mirror that was magic until I saw someone else put one on."

Margot smiled and shook her head. "Delightful, dear, unfortunately you may cause a bit of a stir at the Richardson's annual Christmas party."

"Dad, have you seen Ron?"

Warren turned back to hang the hat back on its peg. "He was showing me around, but there was a group of kids down an aisle. I heard him say something about 'detonators' and he took off."

"They really need to box these things more securely," Hermione muttered.

"But the best part is taking things out to play with them." Ron appeared from around the corner. "Hear you found the Secret Keepers."

"Yes, fortunately George fixed it straight away this time."

Margot had halted at a display. "Puking Pastilles? Seriously?"

Ron sighed. "Yeah. They're part of our Skiving Snackboxes- to assist students who need to leave class prematurely." He looked around a bit nervously. "Not that I ever used such a thing."

Hermione started shaking her head and looked away in disgust.

Margot was quick to catch on, "You mean students who want to get out of class."

Ron shrugged. "Well, yeah."

Warren picked up a box and read the label. "Haven't the teachers figured this out yet and put an end to it?"

Hermione was quick to answer. "Oh, they're against school rules and if you're found with them they'll be confiscated and you'll get detention. But if a student is sick for unknown reasons the professors have to let them leave. They're _supposed_ to go to hospital, but I suspect many don't get there. Between these and the new Detention Decoys the prefects are going to have a busy year."

"Just think, when you're Head Girl…"

Hermione cut Ron off. "There's no reason for Professor McGonagall to make me Head Girl so it won't matter."

He looked at her as if she was mad. "Please, no reason other than you deserve it and are perfect for it. Anyway, when you're Head Girl you'll have the inside track on the effects of jokes and be able to administer swift justice." He shook his fist to make the point.

"This does seem a bit of a conflict of interest." Margot was looking at the Detention Decoys. "Your boyfriend is selling the very things that you'll be confiscating at Hogwarts."

Hermione was beginning to look frustrated. "Again, there's no reason to believe that McGonagall…"

Ron smiled down at her. "You keep saying that, but we all know better."

In a huff, Hermione finally let the issue go. "I want to start dinner. Can you keep an eye on my parents?"

He nodded down at her. "Yeah, sure."

Margot caught Ron bend down to give Hermione a little kiss before she left for their flat upstairs. She continued to look around some more. The Pygmy Puffs were quite adorable. Ron informed her that Ginny had one named Arnold. "But what do they do?"

Ron shrugged. "Look cute. Girls love them."

"I can imagine."

Warren discovered shoes that allow the wearer to climb walls, which he was in the process of doing. Margot just shook her head; he tried so hard to be serious and logical all the time when in reality there was a little boy in there, just waiting for the chance to spring forth.

She sincerely hoped that Ron would be able to bring out the little girl in Hermione from time to time. She could be too serious for her own good. "Ron, I'm going to go upstairs. Check on Hermione."

"All right, I'll keep an eye on Mr. Granger."

As she climbed the stair to her daughter's flat, Margot was reminded of when she and Warren had moved in together. Living with someone was very different than just spending a lot of time with them and had ended more than one relationship she knew of (and marriage, come to think of it). It was why she wasn't opposed to Hermione and Ron living together before marriage; let them work some of the kinks out now.

Of course, she always forgot about the last year when they were effectively flat mates (tent mates?). She was certain many of their living habits were already known to each other. That being said, being _together_ changed things. The next few months should prove interesting.

Margot was rather impressed with how Hermione had fixed up the flat. It also wasn't lost on her how much like the Burrow it felt. Dark, warm colors, smaller cozy furniture- the room felt very traditional. Unlike her own home, this was more modern in style with its bright, cool colors. It was another reminder that Hermione had always felt out of place, even at home. Except in her father's study, of course. But that was wooden shelves and old, soft leather chairs. Margot did note that the bedroom was a lovely shade of slate blue; apparently Ron had picked it. When Hermione pointed this out his ears turned a curious shade of pink making Margot wonder how his opinion had been extracted. She always had a difficult time with Warren on these matters.

Margot entered the flat to find Hermione bustling around the kitchen, Frank Sinatra quietly crooning from the wireless. It was an old habit of hers- to cook to Sinatra, Fitzgerald or James. It wasn't surprising that Hermione had picked it up as well. The kitchen was an interesting blend of Muggle and Magical- the fridge looked like an old turn-of-the-century Ice Box but it required neither ice nor electricity to keep food cold. The cooker was also very old, but actual wood had to be burned with actual fire for heat. The sink, while porcelain, was the most modern looking thing in the room and it had a tap like any other Muggle sink. She hadn't asked how the water was delivered.

Hermione was washing vegetables while a knife cut potatoes on its own. "I see the lessons from Molly are paying off."

"Hi, Mum. Yes, I'm slowly getting the hang of it. The trick is not to forget about anything- those potatoes will be chopped to mush if I don't keep an eye out. Is Dad still down with Ron?"

"Yes. Ron assured me he'd keep your father out of trouble. Though it seems like trouble isn't too far away down there," she added with a smile.

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh. "No, it isn't. But how do you tell someone to stop being wildly successful at making people happy?"

"Ha! I don't think you can." Margot looked around. "Anything I can do to help?"

"You could set the table?"

Margot collected plates and cutlery and placed them around the small table. "So, how's domestic life coming along?"

A smile lit up Hermione's face. "Fantastic, so far. It's only been a week, but we're settling in."

Standing next to Hermione, Margot stroked back her daughter's hair. "Enjoying having Ron to yourself?"

Hermione blushed and looked away, "Yes." Her eyes darted around a moment before looking shyly up at her mother. "I… just so you know… I didn't take it lightly."

Margot recalled the conversation from two years previous (_had it really been only two years?_) when she had _the talk_ with Hermione about sex. Margot had only asked that she not take sex lightly. That she think it through.

Placing a kiss on Hermione's brow, Margot smiled at her. "What are you doing to keep busy during the day now that the flat is all finished?"

Hermione perked back up. "Ron's usually busy all day in the shop and I've kept busy helping Harry clean out Grimmauld Place."

"Has he decided what to do with the place?"

"No. He's not really keen to live there- too many unpleasant memories, but he's loath to sell it since it was his Godfather's. That, and Kreacher would probably die from the shock of it."

"That's his house elf?"

"Yes. Poor thing was treated so badly for so long. When we stayed there last August he finally started coming around. He was looking after himself and his attitude had greatly improved. He would even, sort of, address me."

"Why wouldn't he talk to you?"

Hermione swapped the potatoes for vegetables and let the knives continue. She started browning meat at the cooker.

"Well, I'm not pureblood. And the Black family was very pro-pureblood and anti-anything else. No idea how Sirius managed to not follow suit. Kreacher is, was, totally devoted to the late Mrs. Black and believed what she believed. Terrible, really." She shook her head. "I've come to realize Dobby was an anomaly in that he didn't follow his family blindly."

Margot pulled out a chair to sit. "You've said that Kreacher was coming around. What changed his mind?"

"Harry started treating him with more respect, plus he gave Kreacher a locket that once belonged to Regulus Black, Sirius's brother. Apparently Kreacher adored Regulus, so Harry giving him the locket was quite the gesture."

"Did giving Kreacher the locket free him?"

"Oh no, you have to give a house elf clothes to free them. I fear that freeing Kreacher wouldn't actually help him. But Harry treats him kindly- he currently has Kreacher working with the Hogwarts elves. Seems the best place for him."

"Sounds like you're going to have your work cut out for you."

Hermione added he chopped vegetables to the pot and looked back to her mother. "What do you mean?"

"Your crusade for house elf rights. If even the elves themselves don't want to be free, it's going to be an uphill battle."

Margot watched Hermione's shoulders slump. "Yes, well… they at least deserve better working conditions." She continued stirring the pot. "And a proper voice in courts. House elves have been scapegoats in several trials allowing guilty witches or wizards to get away."

Margot didn't want to deter her daughter from her cause, so she silently prayed that Hermione's resolve and passion would fuel her for what was shaping up to be a very difficult task- possibly even more difficult than stopping Dark wizards. "Maybe baby steps are in order."

The sounds of footsteps could be heard in the stairwell. "Perhaps."

Ron entered first and inhaled deeply. "Smells delicious, love."

Hermione blushed a bit at the endearment. "It's still going to be a bit before dinner's ready."

Warren had followed Ron into the room. "That's fine. I had hoped when your Mother and I visited the Burrow I'd get a chance to play wizard's chess, but we didn't have time. So Ron's agreed to a game."

Mother and daughter glanced at each other with knowing looks. "Good Luck, dear."

Ron placed the side table between the two armchairs and set out the pieces, which were quite excited to be playing a proper game again.

"Fascinating!" Warren exclaimed. "Margot, come look at this."

Margot sat on the sofa to watch what was ordinarily a very quiet game. In yet another display of wonder in a day full of them, she watched as the pieces 'took' each other with great exuberance. Hermione slipped the chicken and leek pie into the oven and joined her on the sofa. As usual, Ron's pile of pieces was building much fast than Warren's, so Margot decided to try to even up the game a little and distract Ron.

"So, Ron, how are you enjoying living in the flat with Hermione?"

She watched his eyes widen and he swallowed hard, a tinge of pink highlighted his ears. "Ah, well, you know, it's been good."

"Hermione says you're settling in. Sorted out the morning routine yet?"

"Pardon?"

"You know, who gets in the shower first, crowding over the sink to brush your teeth, that sort of thing."

"Oh, well, yeah." He cleared throat. "We're getting it sorted out."

Poor thing, Warren got at least two good moves on the boy. To her credit, Hermione picked up on what Margot was doing and was giving her sidelong glances so it was time to let up. "That's good. I didn't ask earlier- what are Chudley Cannons?"

He perked up. "They're my favourite Quidditch team."

"Ah, and how are they doing this season?"

"Rubbish, as usual. I've never known them to win a game. Get close, sometimes."

Margot looked confused. "Why do you follow them, if they're such rubbish?"

"Dunno," Ron shrugged. "I guess it's because they're a team my brothers _didn't_ follow. They're my team. They really do try though."

Margot nodded, understanding the situation. "I had an uncle who followed Leicester City. They too rarely won a game. When anyone would ask him why, he'd just say "someone has cheer for them.""

The chess match continued for a few more silent moves, both players studying the board. After a particularly long pause Warren sighed, moved his rook and sat back.

Ron gave him a sheepish grin and moved his bishop to checkmate Warren's queen, which was then picked up by said bishop, carried to Ron's side of the board and thrown off it in a loud clatter.

"I think I can safely say I have never lost a game of chess in a more spectacular manner." Warren shook his head. "One of these days I'm going to figure out how to beat you."

Ron looked down, embarrassed. "Sorry."

Warren frowned at him. "Don't be. Never be sorry for excelling at something."

Ron looked at Warren and his face broke into a little grin at the compliment and he nodded.

Margot broke the stillness, "Well, I'm sorry, dear. I did try to distract him."

Warren laughed, "Good effort, but not enough I'm afraid."

Ron looked over at Margot who smiled innocently. "Sorry to put you on the spot like that Ron, but to your credit you handled yourself admirably."

"Dinner smells wonderful." Warren interjected before the conversation turned awkward again.

Hermione jumped up and grabbed the opportunity to change subjects. "Yes! It should be nearly ready." They sat around the little table, the crock of steaming pie in the middle and a basket of bread passed around.

After they had all got several bites into dinner, Hermione cleared her throat. "Ron and I have some good news to share."

Margot quickly glanced at Hermione's hand just to double check. "Oh?"

Hermione nodded for Ron to continue. "Yeah. My Dad got Hermione a part time job at the Ministry for the rest of the summer."

Warren and Margot brightened at the news. "Sweetheart, that's wonderful. What department?"

Hermione gave Ron a hard look. "That wasn't the news I meant, but yes. They're short handed in all departments, so he was able to get me a position despite not completing school."

"Which we don't have to…" Ron interjected.

"Despite that, I'll be in the Department for the Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures.

Margot gripped Hermione's hand. "Well, that's perfect for you."

Ron looked proudly down at Hermione. "She can get started on freeing the house elves."

Her eyes rolling, Hermione looked at her parents. "It'll probably just be clerical work, but I'm hoping that I'll make good contacts so once I've got my N.E. I'll be able to apply for a good position next summer."

Warren nodded, "There's something to be said for who you know- never hurts."

Hermione continued, "At the very least it's something to keep me busy and help with the expenses." She let out an exasperated sigh. "What I had been referring to when I brought up good news is Ron has been accepted to Auror Academy!"

"Congratulations!"

Ron blushed hard and looked down. "Not exactly accepted. I got called for a final interview."

Hermione looked at Ron with the same confidence he showed when referring to her becoming Head Girl. "Which you'll be brilliant at. It starts the first of October through halfway through May. Harry got his call back as well, so they'll be there together."

Ron still didn't look convinced, but that didn't deter Margot. "Well, that's just wonderful, Ron! Now remind me, an Auror is like the police?"

Hermione was in her element now. "In a way. Ministry Security officers handle the basic crimes such as theft, forgery, permit violations, etcetera. Auror's are more like detectives in that they investigate Dark witches and wizards. The more… violent crimes."

Margot looked concerned. "That sounds like it could be dangerous. Why do you want to become an Auror?"

Ron shrugged in his usual self-depreciating way. "Well, it can be. As to why, I guess it's because it's something I'm good at. I've got pretty good at defensive spells and such. I feel that it's something I can do well at." He gave a little glance at Hermione. "Plus, it'll give me the ability to protect people."

Hermione smiled at him and took his hand. "It is dangerous, but I have complete faith in Ron. He'll go to academy and learn all that he needs to know and then he and Harry will team up and look out for each other, as they always have."

"I still have to get through the interview first."

Warren looked impressed with Ron's chosen profession. "Well, Ron, we wish you luck."

"Thank you."

Conversation continued about how their dental practice was doing (nearly all their patients had returned) and news about family. Margot watched her daughter and Ron; they kept giving each other little side-glances. She couldn't be sure, but she would guess that Hermione was a mix of proud and sad- proud of Ron's accomplishment, but sad that his choice of profession was dangerous.

Ron, on the other hand, had a look of determination. His comment about protecting people was clearly very personal. Margot had the feeling what he had meant was that he wanted to protect Hermione; anyone else was just a bonus. She had been hurt during their year on the run and it was likely he felt some guilt that he hadn't been able to stop it.

Warren took his last bite and sat back. "Excellent dinner, Hermione."

Ron, who had already finished, smiled at her. "If she keeps this up I'll need a levitation spell to get down the stairs."

Hermione laughed at him, "Ha! You eat and eat and all you do is get taller."

"I've got to stop eventually; I don't think there are any giants in the family." His comment got a chuckle around the table.

Hermione stood and pulled out her wand to clear the dishes. "I think we would have noticed them at the wedding last year." She pulled a tray from the icebox, "Who wants pumpkin tart? Besides Ron?"

They enjoyed the pumpkin tart, which they found out was from Molly; Hermione wasn't up on her baking spells yet. Margot watched the easy interaction between Hermione and Ron, the gentle bickering, and it brought a smile to her face.

Hermione really had found her match, and Margot couldn't be happier for her. Her match certainly wasn't how Margot imagined he'd be, but that was probably for the best. She had originally thought Hermione would seek someone more like herself, but clearly that would have been a mistake. She wouldn't say Ron was Hermione's opposite- that would imply he was a self-centered, cruel, stupid boy. No, Ron was her complement; and she was his. It didn't mean there wouldn't be friction, but they would always find their way back to one another. They couldn't be whole otherwise.

* * *

A/N: Here at last! I enjoy watching Ron and Hermione through Margot's eyes and it was time to bring them back.

Good thing I've got HalfASlug reading these things through- apparently I wasn't up on my Half-Blood Prince, but that's all better now. Plus, I needed a football team and she provided one. Certainly she was objective in her suggestion and personal preference had nothing to do with it. I'm sure of it. And I must also attribute the title to her. Mine was rubbish, so I used one of her beta comments. It was without permission so I expect her solicitors to be contacting me any day now.

Next chapter is already in the works- and apparently Ron and Hermione have been going through withdrawals because it spells Lemon with a capitol 'L'. Plus, the usual bickering and some sweetness too. Expect it next week.

I made up a bunch of stuff this time, so J.K.R. has to share some of the credit with me. Just a smidge. A smackrel really.


	26. Not Yet

**An Unconventional Fairytale:** Not Yet

"Ron?"

"Yes?"

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked.

"Standing here."

"You're watching me."

"Well, yeah, that too."

"I'm in the shower."

Ron's face broke into a lopsided grin. "Yeah."

Hermione worked conditioner into her hair. "Why are you watching me have a shower?"

She started rinsing her hair and there was still no response.

"Well?"

"Oh, you were actually asking." Ron thought the answer had been obvious. "Well, you're all naked, and wet, and rubbing soap all over yourself."

Hermione's shoulders slumped and she sighed. "Maybe I should sell tickets."

Ron lifted an eyebrow at her. "You'd let other people in here?"

"Well, no." She squeezed the excess water from her hair. "It's an exclusive show."

"I'd hope so." Ron leaned back on the vanity. "So you're saying you'd make me pay?"

She picked up the soap. "Well, I think there should be some sort of remuneration."

Ron's head tipped into his confused puppy look.

Hermione smiled at him. "Yes, you should pay." Her lips quirked in thought, "Perhaps it could be an interactive show." She held up the bar of soap. "You could wash my back."

There was a brief pause as Ron stared into her eyes. In a flash he was gone and there was the sound of clothes rustling before he reappeared pulling aside the shower curtain and stepping in.

Hermione started laughing as he snatched the soap from her hand and wrapped his arms around her body pulling her flush to his.

His hands started rubbing the soap around her back. "How's this?"

"Umm, very nice." Hermione slipped her arms around his waist.

Ron's hands stroked from her shoulders to bottom, giving it a little squeeze. He bent down to kiss her, and she returned it with fervor. "Umm, knew I was going to like this living together thing."

Hermione hooked a leg over his hip to press even closer. "So, it's just about the sex then?"

He gave her a sheepish grin. "Well, not just… but it's high on the list."

Her eyes rolled. "Figures."

Ron pulled back to look down at her. "What? It's not on yours?"

"Well, yes, but it's probably more middle."

He gave her a doubtful look and bent down to suck on her breast as his fingers slipped further between her legs.

"Oh… Ron." Her fingers threaded into his hair. "Maybe high middle."

Holding tight to the leg on his hip, his other hand worked its magic.

"OH! Oh! High. It's high." She clung to him, her knee buckling.

"That's what I thought." He smugly smiled at her. Ron lowered her leg and slowly backed them into the stream of water to rinse off the soap. He twisted the tap to turn off the water and took her hand to help her out of tub.

Ron lifted her into his arms to carry her into their bedroom. Not caring about their wet bodies on the mattress (there were spells for that), he continued what he had started in the shower. Her breasts, belly, thighs- his hands and mouth worshiped every inch of her until she cried out again in orgasm.

Her body still flush and panting, Hermione sat up. "Lie down".

Intrigued, Ron changed places with her. Following a similar path, her hands and mouth slipped along his body ending with her lips wrapped around his penis.

"Oh, fuck! Oh, yeah."

Standing up, Hermione returned his smug look with her own. She knelt astride his hips and took his erection into her hand. His hands guided her bum until he was slowly sinking into her and she was sat upon him. Ron watched her face as it turned with pleasure and he felt her body contract around him. At last she was settled and her eyes opened to look down at him.

"You like being in charge."

She smiled down at him. "You know me so well."

Bending down to kiss him she placed her hands on the mattress over his shoulders and began to move. His fingertips slowly glided over her back and bottom as they moved together. Lifting his hips in time with her quickened her pace. Throwing her head back, a low moan started escaping her throat.

His own pleasure was building and Ron had to fight to keep his eyes open to watch her- glorious and beautiful and his. Her movements frantic, she was lost to the moment as another orgasm took her.

The sight of her release and the feel of her body squeezing him brought Ron to his own orgasm and he grabbed her hips to hold her still as he bucked once, twice and at last he could breathe again.

Hermione collapsed on top of him and their heavy breathing was the only sound in the room. Ron could feel his heart rate slow down and he curled his arms around her back and shoulders. It was hard to tell if they were slick from the shower or sweat.

"We're going to need another shower."

He felt her smile against his chest. "I don't know if I have energy for another shower like the last one."

"Heh- perhaps separately then."

"Or just learn to control yourself."

"Me?" He lifted his head. "You were the one suggesting I wash your back."

Hermione didn't move from her place on his chest. "You didn't have to do it via the front. You _could_ have just washed my back."

"Where's the fun in that?"

Her fingers traced patterns between his freckles. "Exactly, you cannot control yourself."

"_You_ could have just _let me_ wash your back- you didn't have to start rubbing yourself all over me."

"Where's the fun in that?"

Ron laughed. "I've been a bad influence on you."

"See, it is all your fault."

A chuckle rumbled in his chest. "Fair enough."

His fingers drifted over her skin as they enjoyed the moment. Having their own flat did have its distinct advantages. Watching your girlfriend shower and lying about in bed, naked, without fear of being caught, was just one of them. Ron was thinking that he had everything he could want when a new, more worrying, thought occurred to him.

"Hermione?"

"Yes?" She muttered into his skin.

"I was just thinking- you know, things being 'my fault'… should I have… did you want me to… ask you… you know, a ring…"

Hermione shot up onto her hands. "No." Her eyes closed and she took a deep breath. "Not yet. I mean, yes, but… not yet." She budged up onto her knees and rested her hands on his chest. "With me going back to Hogwarts and you going to academy, it's not the right time." A blush crept into her cheeks and she looked away. "Because if you had and if you did, then… then I'd have to say yes." Her face turned even more scarlet. "I'd feel strange wearing a ring and still a Hogwarts student. It's going to feel strange enough as it is. Understand?"

Ron's hands gripped hers. "Yeah, I do. I was thinking the same thing, so I hadn't and I was wasn't going to… yet." It was his turn to blush. "I do _plan_ to, someday."

Her lips quirked and she gave him a haughty smile. "Well, good. Because I plan on saying yes… someday."

Settling back onto his chest, his arms tightened around her.

"Good. Or I'd have to talk to you about being a slag."

That earned him a playful slap. "Prat."

"Know-it-all."

After a few moments, Hermione lifted herself off of Ron. "I'm going to go and have another shower, rinse off."

"Need me to wash your back?"

* * *

A/N: Yes, yes, I know, it's a short chapter. That's just the way it turned out. But there was bickering and lemons and some great Ron-ness. And apparently this chapter was my best yet for grammar mistakes- as in there were very few of them. I'm learning! HalfASlug gave me a cookie as reward. I had to supply the cookie, but she gave the approval.

Speaking of Slug- if you would like to snort out loud at some quality humor, go read her latest 'Sunday' chapter. I'm still chuckling.

I have thoughts for the next chapters, but I haven't decided on order yet. Plus I have a drabble that could fit about now. Which would you rather have first- the Aftermath of Ron & Hermione's first flat-mate argument? or more about Hermione's family (namely Margot's backstory I've devised)? You're getting both eventually, but I can't decide which to do first.

If anyone actually gave me money for writing this story, I promise to give it all to Lumos. So that would make it charity work and I could write it off on my taxes.


	27. Much Ado About Socks

**An Unconventional Fairytale:** Much Ado About Socks

Harry climbed the stair to the flats above. With them both working now, he hadn't seen Ron or Hermione since last Sunday's family brunch. Harry, on the other hand, was rather enjoying his lazy summer. Other than fixing up Grimmauld Place, he was spending his time relaxing at the Burrow, going flying with Ginny and being doted on by Mrs. Weasley. After sixteen years living with the Dursleys, he felt he was due. That and the whole Voldemort thing.

He was stopped short by the sight of Ron, sat upon the landing, back against the door, with a wide-eyed, terrified look in his face.

"Ron?"

His lanky friend didn't move, so Harry shook his shoulder. "Ron?"

At last Ron looked at him. It took a moment, but his eyes finally focused on Harry's face and he started trembling.

"Harry." Ron's breaths started coming short and fast. "Oh fuck, Harry. What have I done?"

Harry was immediately on high alert. "What's happened, Ron? Where's Hermione?"

Ron didn't seem to hear him.

"Fuck, Harry." He grabbed Harry's jacket. "What have I done, Harry? I walked out." His hands slipped free and his breathing quickened even further.

"What are you on about? Did you have an argument?"

"Harry. Oh fuck, Harry. I… what have I... I left…"

"Ron? Ron, look at me. You need to calm down. Breathe. You're going to…"

As Harry was trying to get Ron to calm down, he watched as the ginger's eyes rolled back and Ron passed out.

"…Hyperventilate." _Sigh._

Harry laid Ron back against the door and pulled out his wand. "Ennervate."

Ron's eyes blinked open and looked around before settling on Harry. "Harry?" His breathing picked up again as he remembered how he had got to the landing.

"Relax Ron. Just breathe; deep breaths. That's it; you don't want to pass out again." Ron looked at him confused and clearly unaware he had collapsed just moments before. "Stay here. Don't move."

Ron nodded in agreement and Harry stood. He quietly knocked on the door. "Hermione? It's Harry. I'm coming in."

He entered the flat and saw a lump of bushy brown hair on the sofa facing away from him. The sound of sniffles and coughs were coming out from under the quilt that covered the rest of her. Harry walked around to sit next to the lump on the sofa and gently pulled away the quilt to reveal the red and blotchy face of his other best friend.

"Oh, Harry! What have I done?" Tears started running down her already tear-stained cheeks. "Harry, I've made him leave. What have I done?"

Ron and Hermione. Chalk and cheese. The unmovable object and the unstoppable force. He'd never met two people more different from each other who were so clearly meant to be together. His two best friends could drive him mad and he wouldn't give them up for anything.

Harry pushed some of Hermione's hair away from her face. "What was it about?"

The tears came faster. "Oh, Harry. It's so stupid! It's always so stupid." She hiccupped and wiped her face with a tissue. "Socks." She looked incredulous at her own revelation and Harry watched Hermione wilt.

"I just wanted him to put his socks in the basket. He gets everything else in there, why not his socks?" _Hiccup_. "Then we started rowing and… and…" Hermione fell against Harry's shoulder. "Oh God, Harry, what have I done?"

Harry put his arm around her shoulders and patted her back. He asked in a sympathetic voice, "What have you done?"

"I accused him of not respecting me. I wouldn't let up and he… he walked out." She wiped away tears with her sleeve. "I made him leave." She turned to face the fireplace, her eyes focused on the picture from Bill and Fleur's wedding. "I made him leave over stupid… Bloody… SOCKS!"

Harry was starting to get a picture, and he'd been witness to enough of these rows to know what to do. Strange how having the weight of the world lifted from his shoulders allowed him to see other things so clearly now.

He stood up. "Stay here." Harry crossed the room and opened the door. "Come on."

Harry steered Ron over to the sofa and made him sit next to Hermione, who looked at him with remorse and a little surprise. Harry sat on the table in front of them.

"Let's get one thing clear; the most important thing." Harry looked right at Hermione. "He didn't leave. He got out the door and not a step further. I found him sat on the landing looking terrified and when I tried to find out what happened he hyperventilated." Hermione's sad expression softened. "You know how he is- gets all fired up and has to step away to let off steam. He didn't leave you.

"Now, I understand this all started with socks lying about. Is that right?" He looked at Ron this time.

Ron had the good sense to look abashed. "Yeah."

"And the whole thing escalated until you walked out the door?"

"Yes."

"I see." Harry took a deep breath and looked between the two of them. They were clearly sorry for their respective parts and in a dazzling display of maturity had no interest in assigning blame. A little smile creased his face; they were growing up. It was bound to happen eventually. As for himself, Harry had had quite enough of that recently and was putting off any further maturing until absolutely necessary.

But to the matter at hand- which to go first?

"Hermione? What would you like to say to Ron?"

She bowed her head and turned to Ron. "I'm sorry. They're just socks. It's just… I had a really hard time at the Ministry today and I came home angry and there were your socks on the floor and it was just one more thing and you came in at that moment and I… exploded all over you." Hermione paused to breathe. "I wasn't angry with you. I didn't mean those things I said. I know you respect me. It's just the people at work…"

"They don't respect you?" Leave it to Ron to jump to Hermione's defence in the middle of a row.

Harry was certain Hermione didn't even know her eyes rolled half the time.

"Not exactly. Some of the older staff think I'm a bit young and idealistic and they're a bit condescending…"

"Need me to talk with Dad?"

"No. No, Ron. I am young and still have things to learn. They just don't have to be so… snotty about it." Hermione puffed out a breath and took his hand. "But that's beside the point. The point is I took it out on you when you didn't do anything." Her eyes became glassy again; Harry wondered how she had tears left. "I just kept on and wouldn't let up. I guess I was looking for a row." She looked away, ashamed. "I made you leave."

Ron held her hand and looked down at Hermione's bowed head, the evening's events coming into clear focus for the first time.

"Ron?" Harry finally spoke up. "Your turn."

"Right." Ron swallowed hard. "Hermione, you're right. There's no reason I can't put the socks in the basket. I'm just… being lazy is all."

Hermione sat up straight and moved closer to Ron. "I told you- the socks aren't important. I mean, yes, it would be nice but it's not worth arguing with you. Not like this. I hate this."

Ron moved even closer to her. "I hate it too. I always hate it when we row. Bickering's one thing." He gave her a sheepish smile. "I love bickering. But these arguments, where we don't talk to one another after- I don't want to do that anymore."

Hermione caressed his cheeks. "I don't want to either."

Ron closed the gap to her lips and kissed her.

Harry shook his head and smiled. "There now, all better."

Hermione's fingers threaded into Ron's hair and their kiss deepened.

"So I'm going to guess dinner's off?"

Ron gripped the back of Hermione's neck and his other arm tightened around her shoulders, pulling her into his lap.

Harry's eyes flicked between his best friends, who were essentially occupying the same space and he sighed.

"Right."

He was sure to lock the door on the way out.

*0*

Their limbs were entangled, bodies slick with sweat, as they lay on the rumpled bed.

Hermione watched the candlelight flicker on the ceiling, a lazy smile on her face as Ron dropped kisses on her neck. He was still mostly on top of her, his weight comforting. Her fingertips slipped over his scalp, earning her a satisfied sigh.

She had heard "make-up sex" was fantastic and she'd be damned if it weren't true. It was unfortunate an argument had to come first. As she thought about it, it did explain why their post-argument silent treatment lasted so long while at school- nowhere to go with all that sexual energy they had accumulated.

Maybe future arguments had merit, though poor Harry had probably had enough of them.

Harry.

"Ron?"

"Hummm?"

"Do you remember Harry leaving?"

"Harry?"

"Yes, Harry. He was here, helped us sort our argument. He was supposed to come round for supper."

"What about him?"

"Do you remember him leaving?"

There was a long pause.

"Sure he's left?"

"I certainly hope so!"

Ron called out , "Harry?"

There was no answer.

"See. Gone."

"But_ when_ did he leave?"

"Afraid he stuck around for the show?"

"Ugh! That's awful! Don't say such things." Hermione felt ill at the thought. "I'm sure he left once he knew we were sorted."

"Yeah, that's probably it."

The candle flame sputtered in the pool of wax.

"It's gonna drive you crazy until you know." Ron muttered into her skin.

_Sigh._ "Yes. I'm going to go floo him."

Ron's grip tightened. "But we're snuggling… afterglow… mushy sex stuff."

Hermione wondered why she hadn't developed vertigo with all of her eye rolling through the years. "Fine. I'll floo him later."

"Besides, he knows if he sees you naked I'll hex his bits off, specky git."

"Honestly, Ronald."

* * *

A/N: So, there you have it- my attempt at angst. Didn't last long, did it? :) And poor Harry- kid just can't catch a break in my story. At least he can see past his own nose now.

So next up is Margot's back story I've invented- it sets up a new character I want to use in the future and also sheds some light on why Margot is so encouraging of Hermione finding her own way, even if it means separating from her family. Margot's the black sheep, you see.

Usual thanks to HalfASlug for doing her usual thing. This chapter only had a few grammar mistakes as well- look! I'm learning!

Thanks to J.K Rowling, we all know that was actually a Dragon in Russia and we've all had our memories altered. Charlie Weasley has been sent to bring it back to Romania.


	28. To the Rescue

**An Unconventional Fairytale**: To the Rescue

"Thank goodness you're here."

Ron had barely entered the Grangers' door from the garden when Mrs. Granger embraced him. He was late for the nearly-weekly-Wednesday dinner with Hermione parents- the shipment from Peru had finally arrived and there had been a very impatient macaw demanding payment.

"What's going on? Hermione's here, right?"

"Oh, yes, nothing's wrong… so to speak." Margot looked cross at the door to the front room. "My sister is here. And my niece."

_Sister? Niece? _

"Hermione's never mentioned them."

"I'm not surprised. Nor do I blame her. Either way, they're here so now you can go rescue her."

Ron looked at her questioningly. "Pardon?"

"Hermione. You can go rescue her."

That didn't really answer his question. "Ah, okay."

Margot started pushing him through the door to the front room. "Oh, now remember. You and Hermione met at 'public school' and you'll be going to academy to become a 'detective'. Got it?"

"Yeah."

As he was being ushered through the hall, Ron could hear voices ahead.

A young, whiny voice said, "Hermy, who is this ginger boy?"

"Ron!"

Hermione collided with him as he entered the room. His arms automatically wrapped around her and lifted. "Hello, love, sorry I'm late. I didn't realize there would be company."

Ron was still very confused. Hermione never really talked about her family, other than an Auntie Elli that came up occasionally. Wait a minute…

"Hermy?" Ron's face broke into a huge grin. "Seriously? That's the most ludicri…."

Hermione jumped in before he could finish his sentence. "Ron! This is my Aunt Dawn and my cousin, Chastity. They've just stopped by for a visit." She turned to face the two new people in the room. "This is Ron Weasley, my boyfriend." Hermione still clung to his side and was looking very pointedly at her cousin. _Chastity? What a name_. By the look of her he'd give ten galleons that she wasn't.

Aunt Dawn and Chastity were a strange, distorted version of Hermione and her own mother. The family resemblance was clear but they were both dressed in tight trousers, very tall-heeled shoes and shirts that sparkled more than Lockhart's last book cover. They looked very much like people trying to appear fashionable with their fancy hairstyles and heavy make-up. They also looked ridiculous.

"It's, ah, nice to meet you both."

Aunt Dawn didn't move from her seat, and Chastity was looking from a picture of him and Hermione on the mantle and the actual couple standing before her. "Well, I guess that answers my question. Hermy, you've never had a boyfriend before."

"They don't know about Viktor?" Ron looked down at Hermione.

"He wasn't _really_ my boyfriend."

"You went to a ball and he kissed you. And you wrote to each other all summer after."

Hermione gave Ron an incredulous look; couldn't she see he was trying to help? Clearly, Chastity here was a little snot trying to make Hermione feel bad. And if there was one thing Ron couldn't stand it was someone calling Hermione's honour into question. Ron now understood what Margot had meant by "rescue her."

"Yes, I suppose he was. Briefly."

"So, Ron," Aunt Dawn finally spoke up. "Where did you and Hermione meet?"

"At school. We've been friends since our first year together."

"And she saw this Viktor first? That doesn't bother you?" Chastity asked in a too innocent voice.

Merlin, she _was_ a little bitch. "Of course it bothered me. But I was fourteen at the time and too immature to know better. But that was three years ago and I've managed to get my act together since then." He smiled down at Hermione who was returning his look. "It's better this way; I didn't deserve her back then."

"I don't know any Weasleys. Where is your family from, Ron?" Aunt Dawn drawled.

"Devon, mostly."

"Oh. Devon."

"Yeah. Where do you live?" These two were a piece of work; like mother like daughter.

Aunt Dawn blinked to regain her composure. "My husband is from Mayfair."

"That's nice. We're living in the city now and I have to honestly say I prefer the country. The air's a lot cleaner there."

Aunt Dawn's lips pursed even tighter together. "And what do you aspire to, Ron?" She said his name as if it were unfashionable to do so.

"I've applied to go to Academy this autumn. I'll be training to be a detective."

"Law enforcement. Hum. Will you be able to care for your family on that wage?"

And all this time he thought Malfoy was best at belittling him; this woman was relentless. "I'm sure we'll do fine. And I won't be the only source of income; Hermione will have her job as well."

Ron was too caught up in the verbal sparring to realize what he had just implied.

Aunt Dawn looked at her niece with surprise. "Hermione? And what do you think you'll be doing?"

"I plan on going into advocacy."

"Advo… what?" Chastity looked befuddled, like a poodle.

"Advocacy. She's gonna fight for those who can't fight for themselves." Ron was regretting not leaving his wand in the kitchen.

Before his frustration worsened, Warren poked his head in from the study (he had probably been hiding) and interjected. "Ron! Good, now that you're here you could help Hermione get the last of her things from upstairs. I would help but I pulled my back this morning."

Warren didn't appear to be in any physical pain and Ron was certain they had moved everything by now, but he knew an 'out' when he was being given one. "Absolutely. Shall we?"

Hermione practically pulled him up the stairs to her old room. It was empty save the furniture; Margot still hadn't decided what to do with the space.

Hermione picked up her wand from the dresser and cast a Muffliato at the door. "Argh!" She flopped back on the bed, eyes squeezed tight and teeth grinding.

"I was going to ask why you never talk about your relatives, but never mind. They make Aunt Muriel look warm and fuzzy. How do you keep from jinxing them?"

"I left my wand up here."

"Good call." Ron lay next to her and planted kisses on her brow until it relaxed. "How does your Mum keep from jinxing them?"

"Ha." Hermione rolled to her side to face Ron. "I honestly don't know. Whenever I've asked she just sighs and says, "she's my sister." Doesn't seem like a good enough reason to put up with that nonsense."

Hermione drifted her finger over Ron's face and lips. "They don't even seem like family. They're just these people my parents know who come around occasionally. Your family is more like my family. I'm supposed to be genetically related to these people."

"Why don't your parents just make up some excuse?"

"Aunt Dawn used to call, and Mum always came up with something. But I think she figured it out and now they just happen to be 'in the neighborhood' and drop by unannounced."

Ron gave her a sympathetic smile. "Well, I guess every family has at least one."

"That's just it- they're all like that, or nearly all. It's Mum who is the 'black sheep' of the family."

Ron's eyebrow lifted. "Your Mum? You mean that nice lady downstairs who likes me and fixes people's teeth?"

Hermione laughed lightly. "Yes."

"Blimey. How'd she manage it? To escape that is?"

"Well, it's a long story."

"In a hurry to go back down there?"

Hermione shook her head. "Not really." She curled up to his side, his arm going around her shoulders. "Mum is oldest, and apparently when my grandmother was pregnant with Aunt Dawn she had a hard time of it. And once Dawn was born she was 'frail' and needed a lot of attention- or that's what Mum was told."

Hermione started playing with the buttons at Ron's collar. "Mum was five at the time and left to her own devices. Her father was away on business a lot, so there wasn't really anyone around. Apparently the library wasn't used, so Mum would go in there to read and hide. The only person who took any interest in her was her mother's sister- my Great Aunt Eloise."

She smiled at some unspoken memory. "Aunt Eloise is also a family outcast you see. She went to university, traveled the world and never married. She encouraged Mum to do the same- or at least the university and travel part. When Mum was nearing the end of her public schooling she told her parents that she wanted to attend university, which took them completely by surprise. Then again, it's not like they ever took any interest in her."

Ron stroked the hair at her temple. "What did they think she was gonna do?"

"Marry a rich man. Have children- like her mother before her. Not that there's anything wrong with it; look at your Mum. But that was her choice- it wasn't Mum's choice."

Hermione frowned. "Her parents refused to help with costs but Auntie Elli offered to pay her way since she had no children of her own. So, Mum left and went to Uni. It was in dental school that she met Dad, and you know how that ends." She smiled.

Ron murmured into her hair. "So if your mum left the family, then why does her sister and spawn still come round?"

Hermione shook her head. "That is a very good question, and one we've never been able to answer. The best we can figure is that she's here to show off."

Now Ron frowned. "Show off? Show off what?"

"We think Dawn is convinced that her sister is miserable, having to work and be married to a 'commoner' or some such. So she comes round to talk about all the charity functions she's been to and how so-and-so is seeing you-know-who…"

"Voldemort had a girlfriend?"

She playfully slapped his arm. "You know what I mean. Anyway, the thing is, Aunt Dawn thinks she's this great socialite, but the reality is that most people just put up with her because of her husband. Mum and Dad know some people who have been to these same functions and Aunt Dawn is usually the butt of jokes, but everyone stays quiet so her husband will keep writing cheques."

Ron drifted his fingers over her forearm laid across his chest. "What does he do?"

"That's another thing, he doesn't _do_ anything. He's old money; he's living off the success and accomplishment of his father. He probably married Dawn thinking he'd have a proper socialite wife, but found out too late she wasn't up to par. Divorce wouldn't be good for his image. "

"So, your aunt comes round here, to try to make herself feel more important by making your mum feel bad about her choice of lifestyle?"

Hermione nodded. "Pretty much."

Ron lifted his head a bit to look at her. "You know what I think? I think she's jealous of your Mum. She got to choose her life. Found a guy who loves her and respects her. She has success, a brilliant beautiful daughter. Though Dawn would never admit it."

"You're probably right. Auntie Elli says Dawn has always been like this- trying to one up Mum since they were little girls. It's like she's in this competition except Mum isn't competing." Hermione puffed out a laugh. "Chastity was born about a week and a half before me, but that made her a month early. Dad likes to say Dawn induced labour so that she could be first; have the first grandchild. I don't know if that's true but I honestly wouldn't be surprised."

"Some things make sense now."

Hermione tipped her head to look up at him. "Such as?"

"Why your mum is so supportive of you and us. Encouraging you to pursue your dream. Supporting us living together. That sort of thing. She's giving you the things she didn't have."

"You're going to make a brilliant Auror."

"How do you figure?"

"I've said before, you've become very observant and intuitive. You don't let your nerves get in the way anymore. It's wonderful to watch."

Ron felt his pride swell at the look Hermione was giving him. He lifted his head to give her a kiss. "When am I going to meet this Auntie Elli?"

"Not sure. She stays in touch with Mum through letters- she has a house in the South of France, but she travels all over. It would be wonderful to see her again. I'll write to her to see if she can visit this summer."

"So, Chastity." Ron smirked. "Something tells me she doesn't know what that word means. Because I do and she doesn't strike me as the type."

Hermione broke into laughter. "No, I don't think she does either. She plays all coy and innocent, but you can tell it's an act."

"And what's with that nickname? She doesn't seriously think you like it?"

Hermione looked cross. "She knows I don't. I've asked her not to call me that."

"So she _is_ a little bitch. Now I feel bad I didn't jinx her."

"Ron!" Hermione lightly slapped him. "That's against the law."

"But you're thinking it too."

"Of course I am. I usually sit on the sofa and make a list of all the jinxes and hexes I know and what the effects are."

Ron thought about it for a moment. "You turned her hair purple when you were little, didn't you?"

There was a long pause before she answered. "No, not exactly."

His eyebrows lifted. "Oh?"

Hermione looked guilty. "Well, it could have just been an allergic reaction. It wasn't necessarily me."

A smile spread across his face. "What did you do?"

She bit her lower lip nervously. "Well, we were seven or eight at the time and in the garden. She was teasing me about my hair or teeth or something when she broke out into these horrible hives. I mean terrible- all over her body."

He gave her a toothy grin. "You naughty little witch, you. You jinxed her. I knew there was a reason I loved you." His arms squeezed her and he kissed her brow.

Hermione had a guilty smile. "It might not have been me."

Her tone wasn't convincing. "Oh, it was you. Remember poor Marietta Edgecombe- they had to send her to St Mungo's to get "sneak" off her forehead. You can be vicious."

Ron pondered Chastity's ridiculous nickname for Hermione. "If _I_ was foolish enough to shorten your name I'd go with the other end."

"Other end?"

"Yeah. 'Mione."

Hermione lifted her head and gave him an incredulous look. "And how is that better?"

Ron shrugged. "Well, it kinda sounds like I'm saying 'mine'."

Hermione blushed and looked away. "Oh, well, still, I don't care for nicknames."

"You don't mind it when I call you 'love'."

"Because that's an endearment. I think shortening a person's name is silly."

His lip pouted. "So you think Ron is silly?"

"No, because 'Ron' is an actual name. I mean shortening it to a piece of a word. I don't care for it, so please don't get any ideas."

He pecked her on the forehead again. "I said if I was _foolish_ enough. I may not be the smartest wizard, but I'm not stupid. I like my bits right where they are."

She tried not to laugh, "Ron."

"And _Chastity_ is jealous of _you_. Wicked smart, beautiful, choosing your own life, handsome and supportive boyfriend."

He expected another admonishment, not her silence.

Hermione spoke with a quiet voice. "So, you don't think she's pretty?"

"Who? Chastity?" _Was she serious?_ "Fuck no. I mean, I can see how some blokes might but if you're actually looking you can see she's just… what's that word you used once? The Muggle stuff… plastic. All that make-up and hair- must take her hours. It's all fake." Ron stroked her cheek and smile down at her. "I prefer natural beauty."

Hermione blushed "You're just saying that. I'm plain and my hair's atrocious."

He frowned at her claim. "You're not plain. Your skin is smooth and soft. Your eyes are warm and the little copper specs shine when you're happy." He smoothed his hand over her curls. "And your hair is fantastic- it's soft and wild. It's your true self- everyone sees the rule-following, proper student all tidy and organized. But the truth is that she really wants to be wild and free."

Her eyes glistened as she looked at him. "You've gone off and done it again."

"Said something brilliant?"

"Yes."

Ron's mouth quirked into a shy smile. "I think I'm starting to get the hang of it. That was almost on purpose."

Hermione pushed the fringe off his face. "I knew my Prince Charming was in there somewhere."

"Yeah, well, it's just for you. It's all I can do to keep the ladies off me."

"Good." She smirked and crawled on top of him. "Because I don't mean to share."

Hermione deeply kissed him, her fingers threading into his hair, his hands squeezing her bottom.

"Oh!"

They both jumped and looked at the door to see Chastity looking fake-offended and hastily leaving.

Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed.

Ron looked at her. "She actually came looking for us?"

"Yes. And now she's going to go tell on us." Hermione sounded exasperated.

"Tell on us? What are we, ten? We're not actually going to get into trouble are we?"

"No, of course not." Hermione slowly climbed off of Ron to stand up. "She's been telling on me forever and I've never got into trouble. That's probably why she keeps trying." She shrugged and gestured at the door. "We should probably go back downstairs- Mum and Dad have probably had enough."

Ron sat up. "If you insist."

Coming down the stairs they could hear Margot. "Oh, I doubt it was inappropriate."

Chastity sounded scandalized. "But she was on top of him."

Ron bent down to whisper in Hermione's ear. "Bloody hell, why doesn't she shout it from the rooftops?"

Hermione rounded on him. "Ron, shh."

"Chastity, dear, you do realize they live together? We've been to their flat and I checked, there was just the one bed." Margot looked up as they entered the room. "Ah, there you are. It's time we left for our dinner reservation; Warren's gone to pull up the car."

Margot looked at them wide eyed, pleading not to argue and just play along. Not giving anyone time to protest, she ushered everyone to door. Chastity was looking put out for failing, once again, to get Hermione into trouble. Aunt Dawn still looked sour, but she had looked that way when Ron got there.

"Dawn, Chastity, take care." Margot was already walking away to the waiting car. "Safe journey home."

At the car, Ron opened the doors for Margot and Hermione to get in, but before she could he stopped Margot, now that Dawn and Chastity were out of earshot.

"Mrs. Granger. I don't know if this is entirely appropriate for me to say, but I think you're a really great lady and…" Ron pulled her into a hug. "I'm glad you're nothing like your family."

"Oh, Ron." Margot pulled back to smile at him. "We can't choose our family and we don't necessarily have to like them, but they all influence who we are- just not always in the ways you might expect. You are very fortunate that your family are so loving and supportive- cherish that."

"I do."

"Good." Margot squeezed his arm and gave him a wry smile. "And thank you- I consider them a model of what _not_ to do."

Ron climbed into the back seat with Hermione who took his hand and smiled brightly at him.

"You did it again."

"Yeah. Two for two." Ron sat back with a smug smile. "I'm on fire."

* * *

A/N: Happy Birthday Ron! This chapter is fitting for today since he gets to be Mature!Ron. And if it isn't obvious, he's getting shagged this evening. He doesn't go two for two and _not_ get rewarded. :)

Hope you all enjoyed my backstory for Margot. I know that bits and pieces of other stories I've read have influenced this chapter, but as usual I cannot remember all the places I've read the various bits. So just know that I'm not solely responsible for the content, just the arrangement of it. And Auntie Ellie.

Also, a after-the-fact happy birthday to HalfASlug for her usual reviewing of my story, educating me about the British higher education system in the 1990's and informing me that Kensington isn't nearly as posh as it thinks it is.

Since J.K. Rowling lives in Edinburgh, does this mean her children don't have to take the Hogwarts Express?


	29. Learning Her

**An Unconventional Fairytale: **Learning Her

Stomach comfortably full from dinner, Ron entered the bedroom to change from his work clothes into something more comfortable. He pulled his shirt off over his head and tossed it into the basket. Sitting on the bed to pull off his trousers he saw a book on his side. Looking down, the title captured his attention. _The Joy of Sex_. Nervously, he looked through the door to the front room where Hermione was putting away the washing up he had just done (that was the deal- she cooked and he cleaned). It sounded like she was still busy, so he picked up the book (it was larger than his _Loving the Modern Witch_- but she always had a thing for large books). There was a scrap of parchment sticking out from the pages. In her neat, tiny, handwriting was, "_I want to try this._"

He glanced down the hall again; she was still bustling around. He opened the book to the marked page. Thank Merlin, the book was Muggle because if these pictures were moving he couldn't be responsible for what might have happened. His book didn't have pictures, and he understood why. _Fuck._

The tap stopped and he quickly closed the book. He scrambled to find a nonchalant place to put it so it was clear he had seen it, but not make a big deal over it. There was a reason she left out the book with the marked page- because if she had tried to ask there would have been blushing and stammering and awkwardness.

Ron stood to put the book on the dresser and nearly tripped over the trousers he had left around his ankles. He shuffled over, set down the book and finished undressing. Stripped down to his pants, he turned as Hermione entered the room. Her eyes glanced to the book and back to him, a little pink tinge lighting her cheeks. Ron gave her a small smile and her lips quirked.

Hermione started peeling off her own clothes when Ron's hands stilled her. Slowly, he undressed her. Her head tipped back and eyes closed as his lips dropped little kisses along her shoulders, neck, and back.

His book had said that women like to be seduced, even if it was entirely unnecessary, and something as simple as undressing and caressing her was all it would take. Easy peasy.

His book also went on to say that time and effort should be taken to 'learn' your witch- to touch her all over, and if different ways, to see how she reacted. This was a plan he could get behind.

Over the last several weeks, he had studiously touched, fondled, caressed, kissed, nipped and sucked all over her body. If you took all the effort he used over his six years at Hogwarts and added it up, it probably still wouldn't add up to the last month. Hermione would be proud.

And disappointed.

At the same time.

But that didn't matter because the witch in question was currently sighing in satisfaction. Ron was on his knees behind her, pushing the jeans off her legs and kissing the little dimples over her bottom. Lifting each leg in turn, he removed her trousers and ran his hands back up her legs to her hips.

Ron kissed her bottom through her white cotton knickers and stood up. Hermione turned to face him, standing on tiptoe and still having to pull his head down to kiss his lips. He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted, turning them towards the bed. It was a sign of practice that she bent her knees so he could set her down kneeling on the bed. The extra height put her more in line with him and their kissing deepened.

Hermione must have been studying too because he had found that he liked it when she ran her nails lightly down his spine, and now she did it all the time. Grabbing her bum, Ron pulled her flush against him and sucked her tongue. He had noticed that, while Hermione enjoyed the slow caressing, she also liked it when he was a bit aggressive. He was still working on the proper balance. There had to be a line somewhere- he just didn't want to tread too far over it once he found it.

Lips still locked together, Ron deftly unhooked her bra and somehow managed to get it out from between their bodies. Her hips were starting to grind against his and that was his cue. His lips left hers and began working their way down, lingering at 'the spot' on her collarbone that gave her shivers before continuing on.

He had been surprised to find that she liked being kissed between her tits nearly as much as on them, maybe even more so. Cupping one in each hand, Ron kissed and sucked his way back and forth between them. Her fingers threaded into his hair, scratching his scalp just how he liked. A low moan rumbled in her chest, rising and falling from her heavy breathing.

As he lifted his head, their eyes connected. Giving a little nod, he helped her lay back on the bed and he followed on hands and knees over her. The muscles in his arms flexed as he lowered down to place a kiss on her belly. She lifted her arms over her head and sighed in pleasure. The dance was becoming familiar and while he was very happy that he could use a word like 'routine' when speaking of making love with Hermione, he didn't want to become bored and decided to try something else he had read about in _his_ book.

Sitting back on his knees, Ron stroked his hands down her legs and clasped an ankle. This was either going to work, or it would tickle- he figured he could recover from a little tickling. He started with resting her ankle on his shoulder and continuing his caressing of her leg. Up and down, he stroked and swirled his fingers, always watching her face.

Her body slowly started gyrating and he would swear she was purring- a good start. Holding her foot, he started kissing her toes. Her lips quirked, but she didn't stop him. Pressing his thumb into the arch, he gently sucked the little one. There was no reaction, so he kept going. When he got to her big toe, his sucking kisses paid off. Eyes opening, her lips parted in a gasp, which quickly turned into a moan. He repeated the move and her eyes slipped closed again, the moans growing louder. Grasping the other foot she was lifting, he sucked on that toe as well. Her breath caught and released in a long satisfied sigh as a little orgasm caused her to shiver.

_Mental note: suck big toe._ Naughty and kinky- how'd he get so lucky?

Pushing his hands under her bum so he could lift her, he pulled her knickers up and off her legs. He kissed the insole of a foot before slowly dropping her legs to either side of him. Ron leaned down for one of his favourite parts- making her scream from coming so hard. He'd learned to hold her legs securely lest he get knocked in the head; it was bad enough she nearly pulled his hair out. Although, lately she'd taken to grabbing the barristers on the headboard. Fortunately it was well built. He wondered if she had thought of that when purchasing it.

Ron had read and subsequently learned that he could only make her come hard so many times before she would, panting and gasping, tell him to stop. It was always at this point she would start to pull at his hips, wanting him inside of her. Her orgasms were never as strong this way, but she always insisted which was consistent with the book entry that said the act of physical joining was more of a psychological pleasure for women. Not that they didn't enjoy the physical part as well.

Body slick and chest heaving, she sighed and purred as he kissed his way back up her body, licking a few of the beads of sweat from her chest. When he kissed her lips, she sucked at his, which still tasted like her. That always aroused him even further and was currently becoming painful still confined in his pants. He nudged her over onto her belly, running a line of wet, sucking kisses along her spine. He backed his way down the bed so he could stand and remove said constricting pants.

She complied when he gently tugged up at her hips, seeing as this was the part of her book she had marked. Bottom in the air, her forearms and cheek pressed into the mattress, she looked lusty and wonton. _Fuck._ This wasn't going to take long.

Kneeling again, he sank into her easily. She was so wet, her mouth parted in a deep sigh as she always did when they were joined. Merlin, she felt so good this way. Hands on her hips, Ron couldn't help but watch as he moved in and out of her. She was pushing back against him with every thrust, moaning and panting half words and sounds. Shit, he was coming fast.

With her back arched and her body squeezing him in orgasm, Ron couldn't hold out any longer. Holding her bum tight against him, he felt himself come and he could breathe deeply again. As she slumped forward onto her belly, he followed her down to lay alongside her.

Breathing returning to normal, Hermione turned her head to face Ron and smiled brightly. He shifted so they could kiss, his forehead remaining against hers. Did life get any better than this?

Could it?

"You saw my note."

"Note?"

"Yes, the note I left in my book."

"Your book?"

_Sigh_. "Stop being facetious."

"I'm not being facetious; I'm being a pain in the arse. What's facetious?"

Eyes pinched closed, Hermione took a deep breath as a wide smile spread across her face. "I love you."

"I love you too."

She snuggled in even further and Ron rolled back so Hermione lay on his chest, his arms wrapped tight around her. Nothing like a little post-coital bickering- _now_ life didn't get any better.

* * *

A/N: At last! When originally submitted to HalfASlug this chapter didn't have any dialogue. I had noticed about half through writing it that they weren't talking (very strange for Ron and Hermione) so I decided to see how far I could take it. I got all the way up to "Could it?" But admittedly it felt odd, and Slug said something as well so I added the bit at the end. It wasn't right- there was no bickering.

So, the usual thanks to HalfASlug who managed to get through her giggles and beta this chapter. And I haven't publicly thanked my reviewers in a while- Thank you very much! Everyone's kind words feed the fire to keep on writing.

And lastly to J.K. Rowling, without whom our lives would be so much less enriched than they are now.


	30. What if?

**An Unconventional Fairytale**: What if?

The Burrow was finally quiet again after yet another boisterous Weasley family Sunday brunch. With nearly all their children living elsewhere, Molly quickly started up the weekly Sunday brunch to keep everyone close so time wouldn't slip away as everyone became busier with their daily lives.

Food eaten and kitchen cleaned, the various family members scattered around to talk, play chess or, in the case of Harry, Ron and George, de-gnome the garden as they had promised their mother they would do three Sundays ago.

Somewhere over the course of the last two months, Harry had taken to referring to Molly as "Mum". For the first few weeks she would blush and become teary eyed, but everyone had got used to it and it was now a non-issue. Hermione was certain there had been a conversation about it at some point, but she hadn't witnessed it and to date hadn't yet been able to corner Harry about it.

And it didn't look like it would be this weekend either, since he was outside and she was up in Ginny's room catching up. She and Harry had been doing quite of bit of catching up of their own this summer as well and Hermione wasn't keen on getting too many details. She really didn't want to know _that sort of thing_ about Harry. And she was certain Ginny didn't want to hear about _that sort of thing_ about Ron. Blech.

A copy of _Quidditch Weekly_ sat on Ginny's nightstand, the players on the cover zipping around the goal hoops whilst the keeper easily deflected the Quaffle. This caused her thoughts to drift to her own Keeper and how her memories of him and Quidditch weren't all happy ones. She hadn't been there the first time he exceled and the second time he had rounded on her about not believing in him and proceeded to snog the prettiest, most annoying girl in their House.

Of course, he had been angry with her for several weeks prior for reasons she still didn't understand. And now that she was thinking about Lavender, it caused her to remember another curious statement Ron had made, just last week after making love. He was comparing Lavender to her cousin, Chastity. He made the comment about having been "jealous and stupid." _Jealous of what,_ she wondered?

"Ginny, can I ask you something?"

The younger woman was folding several skirts she had recently purchased and had shown Hermione. "Sure."

Hermione felt uneasy, but curiosity won out. "Did you ever tell Ron about Viktor kissing me?"

Ginny blinked and looked away, her cheeks having turned pink. "Ah, I may have let it slip once… when he was giving me a hard time about seeing Dean. I told him he was just jealous that everyone had snogged someone except him."

"Do you remember when that was?"

Ginny had turned back to Hermione cheeks still tinged pink. "Ah, early part of the year before last, I think."

The dots were connecting in Hermione's head. "Shortly before he started seeing Lavender?"

Ginny had the good sense to look sorry. "Um, yeah, probably."

Hermione's face fell, not in anger, but disappointment. "Ginny, I told you that in confidence. I didn't want everyone knowing, especially Ron. I didn't want him getting the wrong idea."

Sitting on the bed next to Hermione, Ginny clasped the other woman's hands. "I'm sorry, he was just making me _so_ angry- trying to tell me who I could or could not see."

Damn Weasley tempers- it always got them into trouble. "It's okay. Water under the bridge." Hermione had no intention of letting a years old argument and misunderstanding ruin a perfectly good friendship, but it didn't stop her wondering, _what if_?

***o***

Later that day, Ron found Hermione in the topmost bedroom. She was sat in the window, the sash pushed out to let in the summer breeze.

"What are you doing all alone up here?"

She gave him a soft smile. "Thinking."

Ron hadn't moved from the doorway. "Did you want me to leave you be?"

She shook her head so he sat upon the bed and waited for her to continue.

"Do you ever wonder… what if?" Hermione blushed and turned to look outside. "What if we had gone to Slughorns party together?"

His brows lifted in surprise, not expecting the direction of her thoughts.

She continued. "I know, it's silly. That was so long ago, no point in dwelling on the past."

"All the time."

Her head snapped back to his. His eyes were sad. "You do?"

Ron shrugged. "Yeah. Well, not that party specifically, but I wonder 'what if' all the time. What if I hadn't got with Lavender? What if we went to the party? What if we left more than friends? How would that have changed things? Would last year have been different?"

Their eyes still locked, he took a deep breath. "Would I have still left?"

Her eyes went glassy immediately. "Ron…"

As if a floodgate had opened, Ron pressed on. "I ask myself all the time. I play it out in my head. What if you were my girlfriend back then? Would that locket have been able to twist my thoughts the way it did? Would I have still doubted myself, you?"

There was a look of sad resignation on his face, and Hermione found her tongue glued to her mouth.

"Thing is, I think if we _had_ been together, if I _hadn't_ left, then… well, then Harry'd be dead, we'd still be lost out there and Voldemort would have won."

This got her attention. "How can you say-"

Ron was ready for her question. "If I hadn't left, then I wouldn't have been outside in the woods looking for you. And Harry would have drowned in that pond and our hope would have gone with him. We never would have found the last two horcruxes and we'd be either on the run or dead."

Hermione couldn't argue with truth, no matter how much she wanted to.

"I've come to realize… I had to leave. There will always be a part of me that regrets leaving and I probably always will. But the bigger part of me has come to realize that I had to leave, I had to lose everything, in order to appreciate what I had."

Ron looked around his old room, still garish orange. "I didn't appreciate how hard my parents struggled to teach us what was important in life – hard work, love, and loyalty. These are the things that get us through. I could see it in Bill's eyes. Yeah, he had taken me in but he was disappointed in me. If my parents had ever found out, I would have lost _their_ respect too.

"I never understood just how crappy Harry's life was. No parents to love him, just those awful Muggles who treated him like dirt. People loving or hating him depending on the mood swings of a newspaper. Living with a target on his back, waiting for the inevitable day when someone would finally have a crack at him. The weight of the whole fucking world on his shoulders. He didn't ask for any of it, but he accepted it and when the time came he walked to his death! Who fucking does that?" Ron pushed his hands through his hair, still in disbelief that his friend had done such a thing."

His face turned sour. "And what do I do? Accuse him of not caring about _my_ family. The only people who really gave a damn about him. I had to lose my best friend to understand just how brave he really is."

Ron stopped and took another deep breath. He looked down at the floor, ashamed. Hermione was unable or unwilling to stop him- his confession gripped her and she wanted to hear it all.

"And I had to lose you. You, who tried so hard to make me better when all I did was take advantage. You saw something in me I couldn't see in myself, but instead of listening to you I let other people- bullies like Malfoy or even my brothers who took the mickey out of everyone- tell me who I was.

"I had to lose you to realize that what I was feeling… was love. I knew I fancied you. I knew I was attracted to you. But I had to lose you to know that I loved you- that I had always loved you and probably always would."

He looked into her eyes, his confession at its end. "So, you see, I had to leave. It was the only way I was ever going to grow up."

For several heartbeats neither said anything. Her eyes were glassy, tears threatening to fall. "If… if you had believed you had lost everything, then why did you come back?"

A small smile broke on his face. "Well, I still loved you, didn't I? I had learned things that I knew were important to the mission- like the taboo. So I had to find you. If there was anything I could do to help, even if it was just to tell you what I learned, I had to try. So I kept listening to Potterwatch and reading the Prophet on the off chance they'd have a sighting. And, if I had lost you, it was okay. I just wanted you to be safe, and happy- even if it wasn't with me."

His smile widened. "But then I got back something I had thought was lost forever."

"What?"

"Hope. When I heard your voice come out of the Deluminator and that ball of light entered my chest, I could feel it. I knew that if there was some piece of magic that could hear you call to me across any distance then I must not have lost you after all. There was hope."

He shrugged. "And because I had left I was able to pull Harry's sorry arse out of that pond, get the sword and…" Ron looked away again.

Hermione took the opportunity to ask an old question she had promised Harry she wouldn't 'badger' Ron about. "When you told me to destroy the cup, you said not to listen to it. Nothing had happened, except it seemed to shake- but I thought about what you said. We didn't even have the cup twenty-four hours before we destroyed it- and it spent most of that time in my bag, not around our necks for months. The cup never got a chance to get to know us."

Their eyes locked again. He seemed to know where she was heading. "What did the locket say to you? Before you destroyed it."

Ron sighed and a look of determination came to him. "It honestly seems silly now. But at the time…" Ron sighed. "It took every doubt, every fear I had and magnified it. To the point that things I had shrugged off as stupid started to make sense and became real. I tried to fight it, but it just got harder and harder to argue against what was right in front of me."

Hermione was afraid of what he would say, but again curiosity would claim another of her nine lives. "What did it tell you?"

"That my mother didn't want me- she just wanted a girl and that's why they stopped with Ginny. That she loved Harry more than me."

Ron was oddly calm as he recounted the fears the locket used against him.

"That Harry didn't need me- I was just getting in the way. I was useless to him."

Ron blinked and the motion seemed to cause his eyes to tear up.

"That you didn't want me. I was nothing to you." He closed his eyes. "That you preferred Harry."

"Oh, Ron." Hermione stood to cross over to him and take his hand. "When you left… when you asked me to choose?" A tear finally slipped down her cheek. "I didn't understand."

He squeezed her hand back. "I know. You stayed because you promised to see out the mission. You stayed because you wanted to help defeat Voldemort, because losing meant your life or worse. I know _why _you stayed- but at the time, everything was so fucked up. I was fucked up."

"Harry said you destroyed it though."

"I did. Harry told me, much later, that he was afraid it had won. That it had possessed me. I think it nearly had."

"Then what happened? How'd you do it?"

Again, he smiled at her. "You. Your voice- this time it was the one in my head. There I was, ready to give up, to let this thing take me when I felt this warmth in my chest- like when the Deluminator light was there. And there you were. Your voice anyway."

"What did I say?"

"Good luck, Ron." He shrugged. "You said it right before my first Quidditch match, the first time you kissed me. I never forgot."

She couldn't help but smile in return.

"In a flash it all made sense. That I wasn't nothing. I was something and I was holding a sword and that thing was just a trinket filled with smoke and I'd be fucked if I let a piece of jewellery tell me who I was. So I stood up and I smashed the damn thing."

Ron caressed her cheek with his fingertips. "I don't let bullies tell me who I am anymore. So you see, I had to leave. I had to lose everything to figure out who I am."

Hermione gave him a watery smile. "And who are you?"

He rubbed the back of his neck and smiled, shyly. "Ah… yeah, still haven't decided. But I'm working on it. I'm a Weasley. I'm Harry Potter's best friend. I'm Hermione Granger's boyfriend. I'll sort the rest out as I go. I do know that I'm not nothing."

Hermione laid her hands on his chest. "Definitely not."

Ron pulled her close, his arms around her waist. "You know, I came up here looking for you and I've been prattling on about me. Is everything okay? You want to talk about it? Your 'what if's'?"

Over these last few months, Hermione had watched as Ron grew from an qinsensitive boy into a thoughtful, tender man. She realized that even she had misjudged his capacity to grow and mature. Oh, he was still her Ron- he still enjoyed Quidditch and jokes and would still say outrageous things to rile her up.

"No, it's fine. Everything's just as it should be."

"Sure?"

Her face lit up with a bright smile. "I've never been more certain."

Stooping down so they could kiss, she met him halfway on tiptoe. "What about you and I nick a broom and go out to our tree?"

They moved towards the door, and Ron started descending the staircase. Hermione called after him. "It has been a while. Shall I get a blanket?"

"Unless you want grass up your knickers."

Stopped in her tracks, Hermione could only shake her head and roll her eyes. Still her Ron all right- and she wouldn't change him for the world.


	31. Eloise

**An Unconventional Fairytale**: Eloise

"Margot, my dear, how wonderful to see you again." Eloise Martin had a slight lilt to her voice, owing to her living in the south of France for so many years.

"Aunt Eli, it's been too long." Eloise embraced Margot tightly, as she was as close to her own child as anyone could be. Holding her back at arm's length, Eli took in her niece's appearance. Margot looked healthy and relaxed.

"I see your sabbatical has been good for you- you look wonderful!"

Margot gave an odd little chuckle. "Yes, it was very nice. But it's good to be home again- didn't quite feel like ourselves over there."

Eloise set down her handbag on the side table and took Margot's hand. "Sorry I never got a chance to visit while you were in Australia- something just always seemed to come up."

Margot's lips quirked. "Not a problem. I understand completely."

The two ladies sat upon the sofa in front room. "And how's Hermione doing? I must say, I'm quite eager to meet this young man of hers. He's the one she's been fancying all these years, yes?"

Margot smiled and nodded at some private memory. "Yes, he is. She's doing very well, but I'll let her tell you all about it. And you'll love Ron. He's a very nice young man." She gave a little chuckle. "And if you're lucky they'll start to bicker."

"Bicker?"

"Oh yes. I admit I have to struggle to not start chortling out loud. They're very entertaining. Though Hermione would probably be embarrassed if she knew I thought that way."

"So, it's all bluster and no heat then?"

"Oh, there's plenty of heat-just no anger."

"Ah. I see." Eloise gave a knowing grin. "And you said they're living together?"

Margot returned her smile. "Yes."

"And how's Warren dealing with it?"

"Oh, he's fine. We had to have a few talks, but he really likes Ron, so he's come around."

"So, you think he's _the one_?"

Margot sighed and smiled softly. "Yes. I do." Standing to walk to the fireplace, she picked up a framed picture and returned to the sofa. Margot handed the picture to Eloise- it was of Hermione and good-looking ginger lad. They were hugging each other while smiling for the camera. Hermione's smile was wide and bright. "They're really very good for one another. She's always been so uptight and serious. He gets her to relax, have fun, laugh. I've never seen her happier."

Other than Hermione's smile, there was one other feature of note in the picture. "Either she's standing in a hole or he's rather tall."

Margot chuckled. "Tall. Taller than Warren even- another sticking point for him."

"Eli!"

The two women turned to the face the doorway. "Speak of the devil! Warren, how are you?" Eloise stood to embrace her nephew-in-law.

"Very well, yourself? Still breaking hearts across three continents?"

"Four! Spent a month in Peru, Venezuela and Brazil. Always wanted to go- finally got to it! Gorgeous." Eli returned to her place on the sofa. "Margot says you had a good time in Australia."

The couple shared a look and grin. "Indeed. Margot's got the pictures all organized somewhere."

"Mum? Dad?"

Margot stood to greet her daughter. "There they are."

Hermione and Ron entered the room. Eloise was taken by how grown up Hermione had become in the last year. "Hermione, look at you." She got up and embraced her.

"Aunt Eli- oh, it's so wonderful to see you again!" Hermione smiled a bright, toothy grin, same as in her picture, her hair as long and bushy as ever.

"And you, my dear. Look at you." Eloise held her at arm's length. "You've grown into such the young woman."

Hermione blushed and smiled shyly. Turning around, she pulled the young man she entered with forward. "Aunt Eli, this is Ron Weasley, my boyfriend."

Eloise extended her hand. "A pleasure to finally meet you, young man."

He had an easy grin, and his eyes twinkled with laughter. "And you. I've been looking forward to it- Hermione's told me all about you."

"Has she? Well then, I shall try to live up to the hype. I'm very eager to hear what you're up to Hermione." Eloise sat on the sofa and patted the spot next to her. "Your mother says you're living in London now." She gave a sly grin, glancing over at Ron who had sat behind her great-niece.

_Poor girl, she always did blush a lot_. "Yes. Ron's brother owns a shop that has two small flats above it and, since Ron is helping out at this summer, George is letting us have the other flat."

She could see Ron swallow nervously at the mention of their living situation, but he seemed otherwise comfortable sitting so close next to Hermione.

"What sort of shop is it, Ron?"

With a nervous glance at Hermione, Ron cleared his throat. "Ah, it's a joke shop. You know- gags, tricks, that sort of thing."

Hermione quickly chimed in. "It's terribly successful. Mum and Dad have been to see it."

"Indeed we have." Warren smiled at them. "They have some very clever tricks for sale. Very creative."

Eli got the impression Ron was nervous that she would think poorly of his brother's shop, and that was just silly. "Well, that's just wonderful. Always happy to hear when people are able to make a small business a success. Good luck to you and your brother."

Ron's smile widened and he eased back into the sofa.

Patting her on the leg, Eloise shifted her attention to Hermione. "And you, dear, what keeps you busy?"

"I'm interning for a government organization that helps those less fortunate. I'm hoping, once I finish school, to become an advocate."

"A solicitor, then?"

"Not exactly, but it would involve providing legal assistance. There are so many people and groups that are poorly represented and therefore overlooked. I want to help them any way I can."

Taking her hand, Eloise softly smiled. "That is very selfless and honorable of you, Hermione. It will be a difficult job with little recognition, but no less important. Perhaps even more so."

Hermione sat up a little straighter. "I don't need recognition or popularity- success will be my reward. And I plan on being very successful."

At her comment, Ron snorted. "I pity anyone who stands in her way. Sorry to say I've been on the receiving end of her fury and it isn't something I want to repeat." He smiled down at her. "Not to say I won't- I also have a reputation of putting my foot in my mouth."

The whole room laughed at his admission.

A laugh still on her face, Eli turned back to Hermione. "So, how much additional schooling do you have?"

"For now, just a year- I'll play it by ear from there."

"_Play it by ear_? Your mum said Ron had loosened you up a bit, but I had no idea. Well done, Ron- you've accomplished what others had deemed impossible." Eloise winked at him.

Ron's ears quickly matched his hair. "Yeah, well, she doesn't make it easy."

Hermione looked back and up at him, her lips quirked. "There's nothing wrong with taking your studies seriously. Plus, you enjoy the challenge." The quirk morphed into a tender smile.

They were adorable. It was too much.

"So, Ron- _helping_ at your brother's shop? That suggests short term."

He nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I'm going to academy this October to train to be a detective."

Margot quickly perked up. "This October? Ron, does this mean…"

Hermione burst out, "Yes! We were going to tell you at dinner- close enough. Ron was accepted!"

Both Margot and Warren lit up. "Congratulations, Ron! That's wonderful news. So happy for you." Margot had stood to hug Ron who found himself half-standing to meet her. Once she released him, Warren gave him a proud smile and handshake.

Hermione was still beaming at Ron. "Best part is that Harry was also accepted- so they'll be attending together."

Not knowing about how one would get into law enforcement, Eloise was curious. "An academy to be a detective?"

Ron opened his mouth to answer, but Hermione's enthusiasm beat him to it. "Well, it's training for several aspects of criminal investigation- forensics, surveillance, undercover work- that sort of thing.

It was obvious he was accustomed to this sort of thing and didn't try to interrupt her. "Well, that's very exciting, Ron. What made you want to become a detective?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Don't know. Just seem to have the knack for that sort of thing."

Hermione grasped his hand. "He has excellent instincts. I think he'll do brilliantly."

Ron smile down at her, his ears turning bright red at Hermione's praise. Eloise noted how Hermione beamed at him, clearly proud.

Margot wore a warm smile and addressed the group. "Dinner should be ready. Shall we?"

*0*

Margot had made shepherd's pie- one of Eloise's favourites when she was back in country. French food was delicious, but she did miss the taste the home from time to time. Hermione looked up between bites. "What have you been doing lately, Aunt Eli? Gone anywhere exciting?"

"I was just telling your parents when you got here, I recently returned from South America. I spent a month traveling around Peru, Venezuela and Brazil."

This captured the young woman's attention. "Oh, did you see Machu Picchu?"

"I did. Took the train up the mountain- just spectacular!"

Ron looked to Hermione, confusion on his face. "Macho what?"

Hermione smiled at him. "Machu Picchu. It's an ancient Incan city, high in the Andes Mountains in Peru. The pictures I've seen look amazing- I bet it was even better in person."

"I don't mean to rub it in, but it was! The clouds cooperated so it was like we were floating in heaven. I can see why the place was so sacred to those people."

Hermione looked wistful. "See any other wonders of the world?"

Eli swallowed another bite and wiped her mouth. "I decided to limit myself to two difficult adventures- I'm not getting any younger. So I also went to Canaima National Park in Venezuela to see the Tepuy. To say it was an adventure doesn't begin to describe it, but it was worth it. Breath-taking! The rock formations are unlike anything I have ever seen."

"Oh, I'm so jealous! I hope we'll be able to travel like you have."

Eloise gripped Hermione's hand that was laid on the table. "I have no doubt you will. I had several years of hard work and saving so that I could enjoy my retirement. The trick is also staying healthy enough to be able to physically do it." She smiled and winked.

Ron chuckled. "Hermione told me you bucked the mold, stayed single and found your own way. But she never said what that way was."

Eli had interrogated them both before dinner, it was only fitting that they return the favour. "Ah, well, I was a nurse for twenty-five years."

Ron's eyes widened. "Really? That's great."

Eli tipped her head in acknowledgement. "Thank you for saying so. It wasn't easy work, but it was very rewarding. That said, after twenty-five years I was emotionally drained and very ready to retire which is why I have a lovely little cottage in the South of France where it's nice and quiet."

He glanced at Hermione before continuing. "I would say your family must be proud, but from what I've heard that's probably not the case."

"Ha! Met them have you?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes. Aunt Dawn and Chastity."

Eli's eyebrows lifted. "Oh, you poor thing." She turned to Margot. "So how is Dawn? Still the apple of her mother's eye I take it?"

Margot smiled, trying to cover a laugh. "Yes."

"Oh… well… that's good… for her." She really tried to be nice, honest. When Ron sniggered behind his hand, Eli winked at him in agreement. As the evening wore on, she liked him more and more.

"So, Hermione, Ron knows all of our family skeletons, how is his family?" Eloise asked with a playful smile.

Hermione's face lit up and she smiled at Ron. "The Weasleys are wonderful. Ron is one of seven children, so when all nine of them are in the house it can be quite…"

"Loud."

Hermione's eyes rolled as she glanced back at him. "I was going to say boisterous. Nearly all boys, so it's all Mrs. Weasley can do to maintain order."

Eli, never wanting children of her own, looked stunned. "Seven children? Your mother deserves an award."

Ron chuckled. "Yeah. We can be a right pain in the arse most of the time. I honestly don't know how she manages it."

Hermione didn't miss a beat. "Probably because you're all afraid of her."

"Well, yeah, there's that."

Margot was smiling at her daughter and Ron. "Molly is a very strong willed woman. She's delightful and she loves her children fiercely but she's clearly 'the law' in their household. Arthur just rolls along with whatever she says." She hadn't looked away from the young couple, perhaps seeing some parallels.

Margot rose from the table. "Well, it's very fortuitous this evening, Ron. I have a chocolate pudding for dessert- a favourite of yours I believe- perfect for congratulations on your acceptance."

Ron's grin went from ear to ear. "Brilliant."

*0*

After dessert, Ron insisted on helping clean up in kitchen. Warren had received a call from a colleague so Eli and Hermione retired to the front room.

"Quite the young man you have there."

Hermione smiled softly. "Thanks. I know."

"Quite handsome, too. Must be involved in some sport, very- what's the word these days? -fit." Eloise winked at Hermione who blushed terribly.

"Aunt Eli."

She shrugged indignantly. "What? I may not have married, but I've had my share of, shall we say, gentlemen callers."

Hermione's eyes widened in shock.

"I was a nurse, not a nun. Mostly it was for the companionship, but partly it was to scandalize my mother." Eli smirked at the memory.

"Did it work?"

Eli chortled. "Oh yes. I think they were hoping I'd marry so my name would change."

Hermione's head tipped in curiosity. "Why didn't you?"

Eli pondered for a moment. "Oh, there were probably several reasons, defiance high on the list. But also I never found someone who I wanted to spend my life with. I had plans, you see, and never found someone who I thought shared them all. Men from that time had different expectations for women.

"I didn't want to stop working and have children. Any maternal craving I had was satisfied looking after your mum. She didn't fit the mold either. The difference between us was that she _did_ find someone who shared her dreams, who respected her intellect."

She scrutinized Hermione. "So, you and Ron are living together."

Hermione turned away her eyes, shyly. "Yes."

"And how is that going? Getting on well?"

Eyes bright, Hermione turned back to her aunt. "Yes, it's been really good."

"I imagine it can be quite difficult- learning to live with someone. Even someone you love."

"We've had a little experience over the years- spending summers together and the like. At least we were familiar with each other's habits so there weren't any surprises there. It's still different though."

Eloise leaned in close. "Any arguments yet?"

A sigh escaped Hermione. "Yes. I mean, we bicker all the time, but that's nothing. But this one time… I had had a hard time of it at work and took it out on Ron. He used to leave his socks lying about and I just went off on some tirade and he didn't know why so he started yelling too until he walked out."

"Oh my, what happened?" Eli laid her hand over Hermione's.

"Oh, he didn't get far. Apparently he didn't make it off the landing and was sitting against the door when our friend Harry showed up."

"Ah yes, the other young man in your life. How's he doing?"

"Really well. He's seeing Ron's sister, Ginny. They're really good together, and Ron has decided if his sister is going to have a boyfriend Harry is the best choice out there." She laughed at some private memory. "Harry has been witness to our bickering and fighting for seven years. So he was able to get to the bottom of the problem and get us through it."

"He sounds like a good friend."

"He is. He's my best friend, not counting Ron, of course." Hermione's brow creased. "I think some people find it strange that my best friend is male."

"Pish posh. One of my dearest friends is male- he provides a… honest perspective when I get too girly."

The two women shared a laugh. From the sounds coming from the kitchen, it suggested that Margot and Ron were about to join them

Eloise grasped both of Hermione's hands. "Well, I'm very happy for you, dear. Your Ron is a fine young man- clearly smitten with you. Plain as day. And your parents also like him, which always helps."

Clearly happy that her Aunt approved, Hermione smiled in gratitude. "Thank you. I know we bicker all the time, but honestly that's when I'm most happy. I'd rather be bickering with Ron than sitting peacefully with anyone else."

"Cherish it, dear. Hold on with both hands."

"I plan to."

Eli hugged her great niece and kissed her temple. "Good."

She had been surrogate mother to one and grandmother to the other- there were no two other women Eloise loved more, and none she was more proud of.

*0*

_Later that evening, in a small flat over a joke shop in London…_

Ron snuggled Hermione closer to himself. "You really want to tell her you're a witch, don't you?"

He could hear her deep sigh. Hermione stroked the arm wrapped around her belly. "Yes. I understand the Statute of Secrecy and fully support it, but… Aunt Eli is the only other person I would tell. I just know she would be thrilled by it." Her shoulders shrugged dejectedly. "But I can't."

Ron lifted his head to kiss her neck, just under her ear. "Sorry, love. She really is a great lady. Glad I met her."

"Me, too. She likes you, too." Hermione turned her head to smile back at him.

"Yeah?"

"Oh yes, said you were 'fit'."

A smug smile crossed his face. "Did she? I'm sorry to disappoint her, but I'm taken."

Hermione rolled over to face him and, with both hands gripping his head, she deeply kissed him. "And don't you forget it."

* * *

A/N: At last! This one took a long time to write for reasons unknown- not sure it was worth the wait. The reviews will tell. Then, once it was done HalfASlug was on the cusp of finishing uni and this little fic wasn't going to throw that off. But now she's done- Huzzah!- and here we are.

Go congratulate her by reading her fic "The Interview". Then marvel at it's astoundingness and leave her high praise in review.

I am working on the next chapter already, and it seems to be moving along a bit quicker.

I hope y'all like Eloise and the continued insight into Margot. I'm afraid Warren's family story is rather boring. It'll probably come up at some point so I'll save it for now.

If Jo Rowling is actually reading this, I'll be happy to provide Hermione's family backstory for Pottermore. For a nominal fee.


	32. The Best Kind

**An Unconventional Fairytale:** The Best Kind

The sun shone through the windows at the Noble House of Black making everything bright and cheery.

"I say, Hermione, this place is nearly liveable."

Hermione was finishing organizing the books in the library (at least the ones worth keeping and not full of Dark magic) when Harry walked in.

"Have you made a decision yet?"

Harry's shoulders slumped. "No. On the one hand I feel like I should keep the place because it was Sirius', but then he wasn't particularly attached to it so I don't think he would care if I sold it."

Harry, with the help of Hermione, Ron and Ginny, had worked for the last month cleaning and removing the Dark magic from Twelve Grimmauld Place. Fresh paint on the walls, floors scrubbed clean and every surface dusted, the house was no longer the damp, gloomy place it had once been.

Hermione shelved the last book and stood. "Don't forget about Kreacher."

Harry sighed. "I haven't. Why do you think I had _you_ help me translocate the wall with Mrs. Black's portrait to the attic? Imagine Kreacher coming back here to find all those things gone before I had a chance to explain? He'd lose his nut for sure."

"How has he been doing at Hogwarts?"

"Blissfully unaware of our activities here. I have him pop in at the Burrow from time to time- check on him. The elves have been working with the Professors to repair the castle. Seems to be taking some pride in it, so that's good."

"It is." Hermione turned away to pick up an empty box.

"I know you want me to free him."

Rising, she shook her head. "Actually, no."

He looked at her incredulously. "No?"

She walked past him to the hall where a growing pile of empty boxes stood. "I've come to accept that I need to take a different tact to realize freedom for house elves. I need to do some further research, learn how they came to be indentured to wizards in the first place to formulate a way to undo the damage."

"Wow. That's really…"

"Pragmatic?"

"Sure. That word will work. I was going to say tedious and boring- which is right up your alley since it involves the library," he good-naturedly smirked at her.

"Ha. Ha. Been taking pointers from Ron I see," she smirked back.

"You _are_ the foremost authority on all things 'Ron' these days."

Hermione's cheeks tinged pink. "Yes, well, I don't need it from both of you."

Harry regarded her for a moment. "Things are going well with you two, right?"

"What?" Hermione looked confused. "Yes. 'Things' are going really well, aside from that one argument. Why do you ask?"

"Well, he isn't always… he can be a bit…" Harry struggled to find the word. "Insensitive."

Hermione smiled. "Well, yes, he can be. But he's got much better. Now that he's got over so many of his insecurities, he's actually quite eloquent."

"We are speaking about Ron Weasley?" Harry's eyebrows had ascended into his fringe. "Tall bloke. Ginger."

She actually giggled. "Yes, the same. Mind it's not all the time. Most of the time he's his usual tactless self." Hermione looked at some faraway point in space. "But sometimes, he'll stop overthinking and worrying and just let his heart speak." A dreamy smile and sigh crossed her face.

Harry was surprised to hear about Ron's hidden romantic side and started thinking of ways to take the mickey.

"Don't you dare tease him about it." If he didn't know better, Harry would swear Hermione was a Legilimens.

He tried to look innocent. "What?"

"You boys like to tease each other, and I won't have you deterring him. I'm rather fond of this Ron. I like to think he was always in there, he just needed to believe in himself to show it."

Harry looked at her with mock disappointment. "Oh, if you insist." He turned serious. "Actually, I don't think it will much matter if I _do_ tease him. George has had a go at him a few times and Ron just smiles back like the kneezle who caught the canary. I think he's finally kicked his self-doubt."

Hermione smiled and nodded. "Yeah. He doesn't let other people pull him down anymore. I think he's starting to see his own worth."

"Thanks to you. Being Hermione Granger's boyfriend has done wonders for him."

He had expected her to blush or have a look of pride at his words- not look sad and have tears well up in her eyes.

"I know and it's not right."

"Pardon? How is it not right? Isn't this what you wanted?"

Hermione sniffed and wiped her eyes. "To be his girlfriend, yes. To have him love me, yes. But I don't want to be the source of his self-worth. I want him to be proud of himself for his own qualities- not because someone else believes in him."

Harry was still slightly confused and his face showed it.

Hermione took a deep breath. "I don't want him to define himself based on his relationships with other people."

"I don't understand- we all base our sense of self by our relationships. The kind of people we associate with helps define our character. I had an opportunity to be friends with Malfoy on my first train ride to Hogwarts, but I knew he wasn't the sort of person I wanted to associate with. I chose to be friends with Ron, because of the sort of person _he was_."

Hermione nodded. "Exactly. You say 'my best friend is Ron Weasley' or 'my girlfriend is Ginny'. But with Ron it's just opposite. He's 'Harry Potter's best friend' or 'Hermione Granger's boyfriend'. He's defining himself because we chose him- not because he chose us. As if his opinion didn't have value."

Harry finally understood what Hermione was getting at. He had never thought about it that way before, and it really did make sense. "Even though we believed in him, he had more people tearing him down and he succumbed."

Hermione smiled like he had just answered an exam question correctly. "Precisely."

"He's getting better though. He stopped listening to those other people."

Her head nodded vigorously. "Yes, finally. And I think he's almost there," she sighed. "I just hope he'll keep it up during training. I think this is his opportunity to show himself that he _is_ capable- if he just keeps believing."

"It's not going to be easy- school was never his strong suit."

"It isn't yours either." A quirk turned up Hermione's lips. "But you both do well in subjects you're interested in- when the outcome is something you both want. You had nearly the same O.W.L marks."

Harry nodded in agreement.

"Plus, without Quidditch and Hogsmeade weekends and resurrected Dark wizards to distract you, you should both do well."

"But those were the things that made school bearable!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I just hope, I mean to say, I'm really happy that you'll be together and I want you to work together and help each other, but- I do hope there are opportunities when Ron can stand on his own and show off _his own_ abilities.

"I'm sorry Harry, and I know you don't mean to, but you cast a very long shadow."

Harry felt his shoulders slump as he sighed. "Yeah. Do you think it will ever go away?"

"Probably, not completely. You're going to have to be in history books, you know. But it might shorten over time."

"Good. I'm quite over being 'Harry Potter- boy who lived'."

They shared an easy silence before Hermione spoke up again.

"You will look after him, won't you?"

Harry smiled at her. "As best I can."

"You know how he can get when he's tired or frustrated."

"I'll do what I can, but without you to bicker with it may be difficult," Harry smirked at her. "He's going to miss you, you know."

Hermione's cheeks tinged pink and she smiled softly. "And I him."

She sighed deeply. "I've just got so… accustomed to him. We have a routine- in the morning he goes and starts tea while I shower. By the time I get out he's got breakfast set. He kisses me before I Floo to the Ministry."

Harry found himself smiling at the picture of domestically she was painting.

"I'll get home and start dinner so he can close up the shop. I cook and he cleans. We talk about our day. In the evenings we'll snuggle on the sofa and read or talk or listen to the wireless."

Her shoulders slumped and a sad look creased her brow. "It's only been- what? A month and a half? And it's just so… comfortable."

He watched as a small tear slipped from her eye. "Oh, Harry. I'm going to miss it so much."

Harry could only offer a consoling smile and arm around her shoulders. "It's just another year- not even that, just ten months. Then you two will have more comfort and domestication than you can stand.

"And just think- you'll be able to focus on your own homework for a change. No chasing after Ron and I, trying to keep us in line."

Hermione gave him a wry smile. "But those were the things that made school bearable."

"Ha!" His smile widened. "I knew you liked it, despite your protests to the contrary." Harry squeezed her shoulders. "And don't go saying you'll be alone- you'll have Ginny and Luna to keep you company."

"I know. It still won't be the same."

Harry nodded in agreement. "Yeah."

"You'll write?"

"Of course."

"And be honest with me, especially if you see him struggling?"

"I will."

"Same goes for you."

"Yes, yes. I promise. You can mother hen us from afar."

Hermione smiled warmly at him before wrapping her arms around his neck to hold him tight. "Thank you, Harry."

He squeezed her just as tight. "For?"

"My happy ending."

Harry pulled back to look at her. He could see the depth of her words in her eyes. Without him to end Voldemort's reign, her story would very likely _not_ have had a happy ending.

He gave a brief nod and smiled wide. "While I'm sure it will be a happy ending, you've still got quite a bit of fairytale left."

"And what an unlikely fairytale it's been."

Harry chuckled. "Those are the best kind."

* * *

A/N: Sorry this chapter isn't longer. Alas, it is what it is. To make matters worse, it will be a good three weeks before another is posted- probably longer. See, I'm going on vacation- my first across the pond. I'm very excited (yes, at stop at the Harry Potter Studio Tour is in the plan- squee!) and we have a very full schedule. Thus, no chapters for a while. I am working on ideas for the next one so when I get back I can, hopefully, get it written quickly. So please don't panic, this fic is NOT abandoned, just on hiatus.

I do have a drabble I've worked up to post later this week, so watch for that.

HalfASlug has provided her usual beta'ing for which I am eternally grateful! Have you read her recent fics? Perhaps her best work yet.

The Queen invited me to tea, but I had to decline as I'm already scheduled with Jo Rowling.


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